Jonathan Strange And Mr Norrell Part 21

"Promise me that you will."

"I will tell Mr Strange any thing your ladyship wishes."

"I should warn you that I have made many attempts to tell people of my misery and I have never yet succeeded."

As Lady Pole said this something happened which Arabella did not quite understand. It was as if something in one of the paintings had moved, or someone had pa.s.sed behind one of the mirrors, and the conviction came over her once again that this room was no room at all, that the walls had no real solidity but instead the room were only a sort of crossroads where strange winds blew upon Lady Pole from faraway places.

"In 1607," began Lady Pole, "a gentleman named Redeshawe in Halifax, West Yorkshire inherited 10 from his aunt. He used the money to buy a Turkish carpet, which he then brought home and spread over the stone flags of his parlour. Then he drank some beer and fell asleep in a chair by the fire. He awoke at two in the morning to find the carpet covered with three or four hundred people, each about two or three inches high. Mr Redeshawe observed that the most important individuals among them, both men and women, were gorgeously attired in gold and silver armour and that they rode white rabbits which were to them as elephants are to us. When he asked what they were doing, one brave soul among them climbed up to his shoulder and bellowed in his ear that they intended to fight a battle according to the rules of Honoree Bonet and Mr Redeshawe's carpet was exactly suited to their purpose because the regularity of the patterns helped the heralds determine that each army was positioned correctly and took no unfair advantage over the other. However Mr Redeshawe did not chuse that a battle should be fought upon his new carpet and so he took a broom and . . .No, wait!"Lady Pole stopt and suddenly covered her face with her hands. "That is not what I wished to say!"

She began again. This time she told a story of a man who had gone hunting in a wood. He had become separated from his friends. His horse had caught its hoof in a rabbit-hole and he had tumbled off. As he fell he had had the strangest impression that he was somehow falling into the rabbit-hole. When he picked himself up he found he was in a strange country lit by its own sun and nurtured by its own rain. In a wood very like the one he had just left, he found a mansion where a party of gentlemen some of them rather odd were all playing cards together.

Lady Pole had just got to the part where the gentlemen invited the lost huntsman to join them, when a slight sound scarcely more than an indrawn breath made Arabella turn. She discovered that Sir Walter had entered the room and was gazing down at his wife in dismay.

"You are tired," he said to her.

Lady Pole looked up at her husband. Her expression at that moment was curious. There was sadness in it and pity too and, oddly enough, a little amus.e.m.e.nt. It was as if she were saying to herself, "Look at us! What a sad pair we make!" Aloud she said, "I am only as tired as I usually am. I must have walked for miles and miles last night. And danced for hours too!"

"Then you must rest," he insisted. "Let me take you upstairs to Pampisford and she will take care of you."

At first her ladyship seemed inclined to resist him. She seized Arabella's hand and held it, as if to shew him that she would not consent to be parted from her. But then just as suddenly she gave it up and allowed him to lead her away.

At the door she turned. "Goodbye, Mrs Strange. I hope they will let you come again. I hope you will do me that honour. I see no one. Or rather, I see whole roomfuls of people, but not a Christian among them."

Arabella stepped forward, intending to shake Lady Pole's hand and to a.s.sure her that she would gladly come again, but Sir Walter had already removed her ladyship from the room. For the second time that day Arabella was left alone in the house in Harley-street.

A bell began to toll.

Naturally she was a little surprized after all that Sir Walter had said about the bells of Mary-le-bone standing silent out of deference to Lady Pole's illness. This bell sounded very sad and far-away and it brought before her imagination all sorts of melancholy scenes . . .

. . . bleak, wind-swept fens and moors; empty fields with broken walls and gates hanging off their hinges; a black, ruined church; an open grave; a suicide buried at a lonely crossroads; a fire of bones blazing in the twilit snow; a gallows with a man swinging from its arm; another man crucified upon a wheel; an ancient spear plunged into the mud with a strange talisman, like a little leather finger, hanging from it; a scarecrow whose black rags blew about so violently in the wind that he seemed about to leap into the grey air and fly towards you on vast black wings . . .

"I must beg your pardon if you have seen any thing here to disturb you," said Sir Walter, coming suddenly back into the room.

Arabella caught hold of a chair to steady herself.

"Mrs Strange? You are not well." He took hold of her arm and helped her sit down. "May I fetch someone? Your husband? Her ladyship's maid?"

"No, no," said Arabella, a little out of breath. "I want no one, nothing. I thought . . . I did not know you were here. That is all.

" Sir Walter stared at her in great concern. She tried to smile at him, but she was not quite sure that the smile turned out well.

He put his hands in his pockets, took them out, ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed deeply. "I dare say her ladyship has been telling you all sorts of odd tales," he said, unhappily.

Arabella nodded.

"And hearing them has distressed you. I am very sorry for it."

"No, no. Not at all. Her ladyship did talk a little of . . . of what seemed rather odd, but I did not mind it. Not in the least! I felt a little faint. But do not connect the two, I beg you! It was nothing to do with her ladyship! I had a sort of foolish idea that there was a sort of mirror before me with all sorts of strange landscapes in it and I thought I was falling into it. I suppose I must have been about to faint and your coming in just then prevented it. But it is very odd. I never did such a thing before."

"Let me fetch Mr Strange."

Arabella laughed. "You may if you wish, but I a.s.sure you he will be a great deal less concerned about me than you are. Mr Strange has never been much interested in other people's indispositions. His own are quite another matter! But, there is no need to fetch any body. See! I am myself again. I am perfectly well."

There was a little pause.

"Lady Pole . . ." began Arabella and paused, not knowing quite how to continue.

"Her ladyship is generally calm enough," said Sir Walter, "not exactly at peace, you understand, but calm enough. But on the rare occasions when any one new comes to the house, it always excites her to these outlandish speeches. I am sure you are too good to repeat any thing of what she has said."

"Oh! Of course! I would not repeat it for the world!"

"You are very kind."

"And may . . . may I come again? Her ladyship seems to wish it very much and I would be very happy in the acquaintance."

Sir Walter took a long moment to consider this proposal. Finally he nodded. Then he somehow turned his nod into a bow. "I shall consider that you do us both great honour," he said. "Thank you."

Strange and Arabella left the house in Harley-street and Strange was in high spirits. "I see the way to do it," he told her. "Nothing could be simpler. It is a pity that I must wait for Norrell's opinion before beginning or I believe I might solve the entire problem in the next half hour. As I see it, there are two crucial points. The first . . . Whatever is the matter?"

With a little "Oh!" Arabella had stopt.

It had suddenly occurred to her that she had given two entirely contradictory promises: one to Lady Pole to tell Strange about the gentleman in Yorkshire who had purchased a carpet; and the second to Sir Walter not to repeat any thing that Lady Pole had said. "It is nothing," she said.

"And which of the many occupations that Sir Walter was preparing for you did you fix upon?"

"None of them. I . . . I saw Lady Pole and we had some conversation together. That is all."

"Did you indeed? A pity I was not with you. I should have liked to see the woman who owes her life to Norrell's magic. But I have not told you what happened to me! You remember how the negro servant came in very suddenly? Well, just for a moment I had the distinct impression that there was a tall black king standing there, crowned with a silver diadem and holding a shining silver sceptre and an orb but when I looked again there was no one there but Sir Walter's negro servant. Is not that absurd?" Strange laughed.

Strange had gossiped so long with Sir Walter that he was almost an hour late for his appointment with Mr Norrell and Mr Norrell was very angry. Later the same day Strange sent a message to the Admiralty to say that Mr Norrell and he had looked into the problem of the missing French ships and that they believed they were in the Atlantic, on their way to the West Indies where they intended to cause some mischief. Furthermore the two magicians thought that Admiral Armingcroft had guessed correctly what the French were doing and had gone after them. The Admiralty, on the advice of Mr Strange and Mr Norrell, sent orders to Captain Lightwood to follow the Admiral westwards. In due course some of the French ships were captured and those that were not fled back to their French ports and stayed there.

Arabella's conscience was sorely racked over the two promises she had made. She put the problem to several matrons, friends of hers in whose good sense and careful judgement she reposed a great deal of confidence. Naturally she presented it in an ideal form without naming any one or mentioning any of the particular circ.u.mstances. Unfortunately this had the effect of making her dilemma entirely incomprehensible and the wise matrons were unable to help her. It distressed her that she could not confide in Strange, but clearly even to mention it would be to break her word to Sir Walter. After much deliberation she decided that a promise to a person in in their senses ought to be more binding than a promise to someone their senses ought to be more binding than a promise to someone out of out of their senses. For, after all, what was to be gained by repeating the nonsensical ramblings of a poor madwoman? So she never told Strange what Lady Pole had said. their senses. For, after all, what was to be gained by repeating the nonsensical ramblings of a poor madwoman? So she never told Strange what Lady Pole had said.

A few days later, Mr and Mrs Strange were at a house in Bedford-square attending a concert of Italian music. Arabella found much to enjoy, but the room where they sat was not quite warm and so in a little pause that ensued when a new singer was joining the musicians, she slipped away without any fuss to fetch her shawl from where it lay in another room. She was just wrapping it around herself when there was a whisper of sound behind her and she looked up to see Drawlight, approaching her with the rapidity of a dream and crying out, "Mrs Strange! How glad I am to see you! And how is dear Lady Pole? I hear that you have seen her?"

Arabella agreed reluctantly that she had.

Drawlight drew her arm through his as a precaution against her running away, and said, "The trouble I have been at to procure an invitation to that house you would scarcely believe! None of my efforts have met with the least success! Sir Walter puts me off with one paltry excuse after another. It is always exactly the same her ladyship is ill or she is a little better, but she is never well enough to see any body."

"Well, I suppose . . ." offered Arabella.

"Oh! Quite!" interrupted Drawlight. "If she is ill, then of course the rabble must be kept away. But that is no reason for excluding she is ill, then of course the rabble must be kept away. But that is no reason for excluding me me. I saw her when she was a corpse corpse! Oh, yes! You did not know that, I dare say? On the night he brought her back from the dead Mr Norrell came to me and pleaded with me to accompany him to the house. His words were, 'Come with me, my dear Drawlight, for I do not think that my spirits can support the sight of a lady, young, fair and innocent, cut off in the sweetest period of existence!' She stays in the house and sees no one. Some people think that her resurrection has made her proud and unwilling to mix with ordinary mortals. But I think the truth is quite different. I believe that her death and resurrection have bred in her a taste for odd experiences. Do not you think they might? It seems to me entirely possible that she takes something in order to see horrors! I suppose you saw no evidence of any thing of that sort? She took no sips from a gla.s.s of odd-coloured liquid? There was no folded paper pushed hurriedly into a pocket as you entered the room? A paper such as might contain a teaspoon or two of powder? No? Laudanum generally comes in a little blue gla.s.s vial two or three inches high. In cases of addiction the family always believe that they can conceal the truth, but it is quite in vain. It is always found out in the end." He gave an affected laugh, "I always find it out." always find it out."

Arabella gently removed her arm from his and begged his pardon. She was quite unable to supply him with the information he required. She knew nothing of any little bottles or powders.

She returned to the concert with much less agreeable feelings than she had taken away.

"Odious, odious little man!"

1 On May 14th, 1810 Strange wrote to John Segundus: ". . . There is a great pa.s.sion here for seeing visions, which I am always glad to satisfy whenever I can. Whatever Norrell may say, it is very little trouble and nothing delights the layman so much. My only complaint is that people always end by asking me to shew them their relations. I was in Tavistock-square on Tuesday at the house of a family called Fulcher. I spilt some wine upon the table, did the magic and shewed them a sea-battle which was at that moment raging in the Bahamas, a view of a ruined Neapolitan monastery by moonlight and finally the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte drinking a cup of chocolate with his feet in a steaming bowl of water.

"The Fulchers were well-bred enough to seem interested in what I was doing, but at the end of the evening they asked me if I might be able to shew them their aunt who lives in Carlisle. For the next half an hour Arabella and I were obliged to converse with each other while the family stared, enraptured, at the spectacle of an old lady seated by the fire, in a white cap, knitting." Letters and Miscellaneous Papers of Jonathan Strange Letters and Miscellaneous Papers of Jonathan Strange, ed. John Segundus, pub. John Murray, London, 1824.

2 One of Mr Norrell's books. Mr Norrell mentioned it, somewhat obliquely, when Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot waited upon him in early January 1807.

3 These were Venetian paintings which Mr Norrell had seen at Mrs Wintertowne's house two years before. Mrs Wintertowne had informed Mr Norrell at the time that she intended to give them to Sir Walter and Miss Wintertowne as a wedding-present.

28.

The Duke of Roxburghe's library November 1810January 1811 AT THE END of 1810 the Government's situation was about as bad as it could possibly be. Bad news met the Ministers at every turn. The French were everywhere triumphant; the other great European powers who had once combined with Britain to fight the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte (and who had subsequently been defeated by him) now discovered their mistake and became instead his allies. At home, trade was destroyed by the war and men in every part of the kingdom were bankrupted; the harvest failed two years together. The King's youngest daughter fell ill and died, and the King went mad from grief.

The war destroyed every present comfort and cast a deep gloom over the future. Soldiers, merchants, politicians and farmers all cursed the hour that they were born, but magicians (a contrary breed of men if ever there was one) were entirely delighted by the course events were taking. Not for many hundreds of years had their art been held in such high regard. Many attempts to win the war had ended in disaster and magic now seemed the greatest hope Britain had. There were gentlemen from the War Office and all the various boards and offices of the navy who were most anxious to employ Mr Norrell and Mr Strange. The press of business at Mr Norrell's house in Hanover-square was often so great that visitors were obliged to wait until three or four in the morning before Mr Strange and Mr Norrell were able to attend to them. This was no very great trial as long as there was a crowd of gentlemen in Mr Norrell's drawing-room, but woe to the one who was last, for it is never a pleasant thing to have to wait in the middle of night outside a closed door and know that behind the door are two magicians doing magic.1 A story which was circulating at the time (one heard it every-where one went) was the tale of the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte's bungled attempts to find a magician of his own. Lord Liverpool's spies2 reported that the Emperor was so jealous of the success of English magicians that he had sent out officers to search through all his Empire for some person or persons with magical abilities. Thus far, however, all that they had discovered was a Dutchman called Witloof who had a magic wardrobe. The ward-robe had been taken to Paris in a barouche-landau. At Versailles, Witloof had promised the Emperor that he could find the answer to any question inside the wardrobe. reported that the Emperor was so jealous of the success of English magicians that he had sent out officers to search through all his Empire for some person or persons with magical abilities. Thus far, however, all that they had discovered was a Dutchman called Witloof who had a magic wardrobe. The ward-robe had been taken to Paris in a barouche-landau. At Versailles, Witloof had promised the Emperor that he could find the answer to any question inside the wardrobe.

According to the spies, Buonaparte had asked the wardrobe the following three questions: "Would the baby the Empress was expecting be male?"; "Would the Czar of Russia change sides again?"; "When would the English be defeated?"

Witloof had gone inside the wardrobe and come out with the following answers: "Yes," "No," and "In four weeks time". Every time Witloof entered the wardrobe there was the most hideous noise as if half the demons in h.e.l.l were screaming inside it, clouds of little silver stars issued from the cracks and hinges and the wardrobe rocked slightly upon its ball-and-claw feet. After the three questions had been answered, Buonaparte regarded the wardrobe silently for some moments, and then he strode over and pulled open the doors. Inside he found a goose (to make the noises) and some saltpetre (to produce the silver stars) and a dwarf (to ignite the saltpetre and prod the goose). No one knew for certain what had happened to Witloof and the dwarf, but the Emperor had eaten the goose for dinner the following day.

In the middle of November the Admiralty invited Mr Norrell and Mr Strange to Portsmouth to review the Channel Fleet, an honour usually reserved for admirals, heroes and kings. The two magicians and Arabella went down to Portsmouth in Mr Norrell's carriage. Their entrance into the town was marked by a salute of guns from all the ships in the harbour and all the a.r.s.enals and forts that surrounded it. They were rowed about among the ships at Spithead, accompanied by a whole array of admirals, flag officers and captains in their several barges. Other less official boats went too, full of the good citizens of Portsmouth come to look at the two magicians and wave and cheer. On returning to Portsmouth Mr Norrell and Mr and Mrs Strange looked over the dock-yard and in the evening a grand ball was given in their honour at the a.s.sembly Rooms and all the town was illuminated.

The ball was generally reckoned a very delightful affair. There was one slight annoyance early on when some of the guests were foolish enough to make some remarks to Mr Norrell upon the pleasantness of the occasion and the beauty of the ballroom. Mr Norrell's rude reply immediately convinced them that he was a cross, disagreeable man, unwilling to talk to any one below the rank of admiral. However they found ample compensation for this disappointment in the lively, unreserved manners of Mr and Mrs Strange. They They were happy to be introduced to Portsmouth's princ.i.p.al inhabitants and they spoke admiringly of Portsmouth, of the ships they had seen and of things naval and nautical in general. Mr Strange danced every dance without exception, Mrs Strange only sat out for two and they did not return to their rooms at the Crown until after two o'clock in the morning. were happy to be introduced to Portsmouth's princ.i.p.al inhabitants and they spoke admiringly of Portsmouth, of the ships they had seen and of things naval and nautical in general. Mr Strange danced every dance without exception, Mrs Strange only sat out for two and they did not return to their rooms at the Crown until after two o'clock in the morning.

Having got to bed a little before three, Strange was not best pleased to be woken again at seven by a knock on the door. He got up and found one of the inn-servants standing in the hallway.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the man, "but the port-admiral has sent to say the False Prelate False Prelate is run upon Horse Sand. He has sent Captain Gilbey to fetch one of the magicians but the other magician has the headach and will not go." is run upon Horse Sand. He has sent Captain Gilbey to fetch one of the magicians but the other magician has the headach and will not go."

This was not perhaps as perfectly comprehensible as the man intended, and Strange suspected that, even if he had been rather more awake, he would not have understood it. Nevertheless it was clear that something something had occurred and that he was required to go had occurred and that he was required to go somewhere somewhere. "Tell Captain Whatever-it-is to wait," he said with a sigh. "I am coming."

He dressed and went downstairs. In the coffee-room he found a handsome young man in a captain's uniform who was pacing up and down. This was Captain Gilbey. Strange remembered him from the ballroom an intelligent-seeming man with pleasant manners. He looked greatly relieved to see Strange and explained that a ship, the False Prelate False Prelate, had run upon one of the shoals at spithead. It was an awkward situation. The False Prelate False Prelate might be got off without serious damage or she might not. In the meantime the port-admiral sent his compliments to Mr Norrell and Mr Strange and begged that one or both of them go with Captain Gilbey to see if there was any thing that they could do. might be got off without serious damage or she might not. In the meantime the port-admiral sent his compliments to Mr Norrell and Mr Strange and begged that one or both of them go with Captain Gilbey to see if there was any thing that they could do.

A gig stood outside the Crown with one of the inn-servants at the horse's head. Strange and Captain Gilbey got into it and Captain Gilbey drove them briskly through the town. The town was beginning to stir with a certain air of hurry and alarm. Windows were opening; heads in nightcaps were poking out of them and shouting down questions; people in the street were shouting back answers. A great many people seemed to be hurrying in the same direction as Captain Gilbey's carriage.

When they reached the ramparts, Captain Gilbey halted. The air was cold and damp and there was a fresh breeze blowing off the sea. A little way out a huge ship was lying on her side. Sailors very small and black and far away could be seen clinging to the rail and clambering down the side of the ship. A dozen or so rowing boats and small sailing vessels were crowded around her. Some of the occupants of these boats appeared to be holding energetic conversations with the sailors on the ship.

To Strange's unnautical eye, it looked very much as if the ship had simply lain down and gone to sleep. He felt that if he had been the Captain he would have spoken to her sternly and made her get up again.

"But surely," he said, "dozens of ships go in and out of Portsmouth all the time. How could such a thing happen?"

Captain Gilbey shrugged. "I am afraid it is not so remarkable as you suppose. The master might not be familiar with the channels of Spithead, or he might be drunk."

A large crowd was a.s.sembling. In Portsmouth every inhabitant has some connexion with the sea and ships, and some interest of his own to preserve. The daily talk about the place is of the ships going in and out of the harbour and the ships that lie at anchor at Spithead. An event such as this was of almost universal concern. It drew not only the regular loungers of the place (who were numerous enough), but also the steadier citizens and tradesmen, and of course every naval gentleman who had leisure to go and see. A vigorous argument was already taking place over what the master of the ship had done wrong, and what the port admiral must do to put it right. As soon as the crowd understood who Strange was and what he had come to do, it was glad to transfer the benefit of its many opinions to him. Unfortunately a great deal of nautical language was employed and Strange had at best an indistinct impression of his informants' meaning. After one explanation he made the mistake of inquiring what "beating off" and "heaving to" meant, which led to such a very perplexing explanation of the principles of sailing that he understood a great deal less at the end of it than he had at the beginning.

"Well!" he said. "The chief problem is surely that she is on her side. Shall I simply turn her upright? That would be quite easy to accomplish."

"Good Lord! No!" cried Captain Gilbey. "That will not do at all! Unless it is done in the most careful manner imaginable her keel would almost certainly snap in two. Everybody would drown."

"Oh!" said Strange.

His next attempt to help fared even worse. Something somebody said about a fresher breeze blowing the ship off the sandbank at high water caused him to think that a strong wind might help. He raised his hands to begin conjuring one up.

"What are you doing?" asked Captain Gilbey.

Strange told him.

"No! No! No!" cried the Captain, appalled.

Several people seized Strange bodily. One man started shaking him vigorously, as though he thought that he might in this way dispel any magic before it took effect.

"The wind is the from south-west," explained Captain Gilbey. "If it grows stronger, it will batter the ship against the sands and almost certainly break her up. Everybody will drown!"

Someone else was heard to remark that he could not for the life of him understand why the Admiralty thought so highly of this fellow whose ignorance was so astonishing.

A second man replied sarcastically that he might not be much of a magician but at least he danced very well.

A third person laughed.

"What is the sand called?" asked Strange.

Captain Gilbey shook his head in an exasperated fashion to convey that he had not the least idea what Strange was talking about.

"The . . . the place . . . the thing on which the ship is caught," urged Strange. "Something about horses?"

"The shoal is called Horse Sand," said Captain Gilbey coldly and turned away to speak to someone else.

For the next minute or two no one paid any attention to the magician. They watched the progress of the sloops and brigs and barges around the False Prelate False Prelate and they looked to the skies and talked of how the weather was changing and where the wind would be at high water. and they looked to the skies and talked of how the weather was changing and where the wind would be at high water.

Suddenly several people called attention to the water. Something odd had appeared there. It was a large, silvery something with a long, oddly-shaped head and hair like long pale weeds waving behind it. It seemed to be swimming towards the False Prelate False Prelate. No sooner had the crowd begun to exclaim and wonder about this mysterious object than several more appeared. The next moment there were a whole host of silvery shapes more than a man could count all swimming towards the ship with great ease and speed.

"What in the world are they?" asked a man in the crowd.

They were much too large to be men and not at all like fish or dolphins.

"They are horses," said Strange.

"Where did they come from?" asked another man.

"I made them," said Strange, "out of the sand. Out of Horse Sand, to be precise."

"But will they not dissolve?" asked one of the crowd.

"And what are they for?" asked Captain Gilbey.