Read Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) Online
Authors: Jack Wolf
Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) (29 page)
Dear Mr Hart
I hope that You are not too Displeas’d by my Writing to You. I am Here (at Collerton) for another Month, as Mama hath writ to say that she will not be Readye for me to go Home till July when my Brother Albert gets his Leave and he can fetch me from the Post in Weymouth.
I have tryed hard to Keep my Word to You and I will continue to Keep it. Aunt R. says I am not Quite the Savidge any longer and I am to spend more Time with Mrs B. because she is a good Influence. I hope You are Happy to hear this.
I know that You do not enjoye long Letters, so I shall not bore You with Newes and such that You will get from Mrs B. I have been Studying my English Composition and have written You a Story about Raw-Head-and-Bloody-Bones of which I hope You will Approve. It is not a Nursery Tale, for I have made it up out of my own Head, and it is a very fright-full Yarn, with Blood and Gore and Horrid Death in it.
Your Friend
Katherine Montague
The Tale of Leonora
Once, there were twin Brothers of Noble Birth, who were in all things the greatest of Rivals. Their names were Raw Head and Bloody Bones, because when the Sunne went downe they Transformed into Horrible Monsters. Raw Head had but a Scull from which all the Fleashe had gonne, so that his Haire grewe directly from the Bone as Seaweed doth upon a Rocke. Bloody Bones became a Skeleton with Bones as Redd as Fire and Eyes like burning Embers.
Bothe were Bad to looke upon, and Worse still to meet with, but Raw Head was the Worst; for whilst Bloody Bones could stripp the
Skin from a Man’s Backe with his long Fingernailes, one Glance from Raw Head could smite him into a Pitch Black Madness from which there was no Return.
Now Raw Head hath gonne away to seeke his Fortune in the West, and Bloody Bones is left Alone upon his Father’s Estate. One Daye Bloody Bones is walking in the Fields, appearing most Handsome and richly Dresst, for ’tis the Dayetime. There he meets with a Sea Captain’s Daughter, who is called Leonora, and she hath eyes as Blue as Forgetmenots and is as lovely as the June Sky. They fell in Love and planned there and then to be Marryed after several Sundayes at the Church on the Hill. But Bloody Bones could not tell Leonora his Dread Secret, for he feared that she would Flee from him if he did.
So the Weddinge went ahead, and on their Weddinge night Leonora wonders why her Husband shuts himself away. Doth he not Desire to lie with me? she sayes.
Then one fell Night an evil Goblin stole into the House and carryed her off to his Lair on the high Moor. And Bloody Bones, getting up the next Daye goes into his Wife’s Chamber and cryes: O Woe! Alack! Where is my poor Leonora!
And the Maid says: She is Gonne, up on the Moor, for the Goblins have Stolen her.
So Bloody Bones pulls on his Cote and takes up his Pistols and his Sword, and he calls for his Horse and Rides up on the Moor to Hunt for Leonora.
When she Hears him, for his Voice can Carry for Miles and Miles, Leonora cryes: O, My Darling! My Love! My Dearest!
Forget mee not, My Bloody Bones, How I miss Thee! Tell mee what I must do,
for these Vile Goblins have taken me Prisoner!
So Bloody Bones puts his Spurs into his Horse’s sides, and he
gallops all the Way over the Moor towards where he hath heard his Leonora’s Voice. But his Way was blocked by an Hundred Goblins with sharp Teeth who wanted to Capture him too and drink up all his Bloode.
Bloody Bones draws his Pistols and Shoots two full Score of them Dead as they come, and their Bodies lay vile and Stinking upon the Moor, rotting away till there was no more Sign of them. But many More attackt him and they pulled him Down from his Horse, which they slew most Horribly. So Bloody Bones draws his Sword and fights on right Manfully, Cleaving the Sculls of many Goblins from their Shoulders, and splitting still more Compleatly down the Middle, like Logs for the Fire. The Goblin Bloode was Terrible for it scorched Bloody Bones like ice-water, and his Fine Cloathes began for to Smoake. And still he cryes: O, Leonora, my Love, feare not, for I come, I come!
He fought so Long and so Furiously that the Goblin Hoarde fell apart, and ran Screaming for their Lives all across the Moor, scattering like Ashes blown before a Mighty Gale.
Then Bloody Bones strode up to the Cave where the Goblin Knight kept his dear Leonora Prisoner. And he is gonne in and Lo, before him is Raw Head himself, who hath become the High Prince over all Goblins. And Raw Head he hath bound Leonora to a Chair, and he is supping her Bloode from a White Baysin. But Bloody Bones hath such a Fearsome Phrenzy on him that he easily defeats this most Wicked of all Foes, and he stabs him thro’ the Chest to cut out his Heart, but the Goblin hath not one. So Bloody Bones pulled off his Head with his bare Hands so that the redd Bloode spouted from his Necke. Then Leonora throws herself into the Arms of her Deare Husband, and they Kissed and Embrac’d each other, never to be Parted ever again.
Then the bold Sunne began to Sett, and Bloody Bones was transfixt by Mortall Feare that she would love him not. But Leonora had learned long ago to See beyond meere Appearances, and she knew him for her Husband whom she Adored right well, and she Promises to do Anything he Wishes. So they returned Home across the Moor to his Estate, and Never were they parted ever Again.
As soon as I had finished the Tale, I took it up again and read it thro’ from the Beginning to the End. I traced the Shapes made by Katherine’s Quill with my Fingers; here, and here, and here, she had lifted her Goose feathered Pen from the Paper and dippt it in her Ink, for these Stroakes immediately after were thick, and very black. Here, the Ink had drippt, and she had blown upon the Page to blot it. I held the Paper to my Lips to taste the Fragrance of her Breath. When I closed mine Eyes, it seemed as if her cool, soft Lips presst light against mine own.
I murmured her Name, again, again: Katherine.
Dear God, if she were but here with me, now, lying beside me on this Bed! Mine Hands ached for the Touch of her, the delicate Skin—as I imagined—of her inner Thigh—the blonde Curls—for they must be blonde—of her Mons Pubis—the warm Wetness between her opening Legs.
My God, I thought, if she were here—if she—
Once I had regained my Composure, I took up my Quill and settled My Self at mine Escritoire to pen a Reply. It was short, curt enough to deceive any of the Ravenscrofts who might lay Hands upon it, and in its old fashioned secret Italics, I hoped intirely to my Point:
Dear Miss Montague,
I
am happy to learn that Mrs Ravenscroft is satisfied by your improved Behaviour, and I trust that you wil
l
keep to your Word in this Matter as in all others. I greatly enjoyed your little Phantasy of the unforgettable Le
o
nora, who hath overcome the terrifying Raw Head with the help of her lo
v
ing Bloody Bon
e
s. However, there is still an occasional solecistic Rusticit
y
in your Grammar and Phraseology which you must strive to
o
vercome, and your Handwriting is childish and inelegant. One Ho
u
re’s careful Practice every
D
aye, until your Fingers ache, should remedy this latter D
e
ficiency.
I am gre
a
tly concerned at your Suggestion that you will be travelling Post. I trust that your Uncle will make su
r
e to send a Servant with you. If he doth not intend to do this, remark upon it to Mrs Barnaby, and she will have one of the Hal
l
Servants accompany you.
Y
ours, etc,
Tristan Hart.
I sealed the Letter, and addressing it to Miss Montague, at the Rectory, Collerton, Berkshire, I unlocked my Door and called for Liza to send it by the Return of Post.
* * *
The Months after my brief Sojourn in Berkshire pulsed by in a steady Rhythm. The Hospitals kept me busy; every Morn I rose at six and hurried from Bow Street to Southwark or Smithfield, as I would work alternate Dayes at each Establishment. I assisted upon the Wards from seven until nine; then after a short Breakfast I would operate, after a minor Fashion, until eleven, when Dr Hunter would arrive and I would watch him operate, and fetch and carry for him until one or two. During the Afternoons, if I was lucky, I
was able to quit the Hospital and follow Dr Hunter into his private Practice until five, after which I would return to check up on the Progress of mine own Patients. I dealt with Innkeepers, Merchants, Footmen, and Shoemakers’ Wives, Beggars and Vagrants; clean Cases, dirty Cases—those suffering from any of the venereal Diseases, who were kept apart in their own Wards—Injuries, and sometimes, Incurables; altho’ the Governors of both Hospitals refused to allow these to remain after three Months, and the City, in the Event of their being treated on its Purse, refused to pay. I became a confident Dresser of Wounds, Lancer of Boils, Manager of Whitlows and Resetter of Dislocations. I watched—and I envied—the Removal of Tumours, the Closing of Fistulae, the Amputation of Limbs above the Joint and below it. I did not usually return to Mr Fielding’s House before nine.
Naturally, my Visits to Mrs Haywood’s Establishment were no longer as numerous as they had been; most Weeks I was too busy to pay Polly more than a quarter-Houre’s Call; but my reduced Interest was neither intirely due to Lack of Time nor to the Fact that I now had real Subjects for mine Investigation. The Truth was that in every Scream, in every Cry, I heard the tormenting Echo of that One which I had not: my Darling’s own.
“
Tell mee what I must do
,” she had written; and so tell her I did; weekly, twice weekly, at length daily, even tho’ I had warned her not to expect many Letters. I wrote to her demanding petty and trivial Improvements to her Behaviour, to her Grammar, her Manner of Walking, and her Mode of Dress—which Improvements, once achieved, I invariably decried. She wrote to me every Morning when she arose to reassure me of her determined Efforts to succeed and her continuing Progress—and also, sometimes, to seek mine Approbation of some devious Means she had herself
devised for her own Punishment, if, and when, she should have failed to please.
I was falling in Love; and thro’out all my Limbs and Organs Joy flowed immeasurable. I did not know whether any of the Fielding Family had guessed wherefore. That I did not tell them was not due to any Fear that they might despise my Choice; for as mine Aunt had remarked, Henry Fielding, at least, could have nothing to say upon that Point. I feared rather that they might, in their collective Pleasure at my potentially altered State, let the Story slip to my Father, by whom it must certainly come to my Aunt; and she would be sure to interfere against me.
To Mr Glass, however, whose Christian Name, I soon learned, was Erasmus, I discovered My Self to be an open Book. Perhaps half-open, for altho’ Erasmus’ Wits were sharp and his Insight penetrating, he had led an innocent Life in Comparison with mine own, and if he knew of the theoretical Existence of my particular Vice, he did not think to connect its Praxis in any Way with me. He guessed quickly, however, at the Existence of someone dear to mine Heart, and challenged me upon it.
We had passed the Afternoon together in the Hospital, witnessing the Excoriation of three facial Tumours and an high Lithotomy performed at nigh Cheseldenian Speed. These had awarded a pleasing Distraction to mine Eyes, tho’ the Lithotomy had left Erasmus rather pale; thro’out the long, slow Morning I had spent tedious Houres about the lancing of Abscesses, the Reparation of Ruptures, and the cleaning of Ulcers. At about half-past seven o’ the Clock, we were both of us just upon the point of leaving to go home when Dr Hunter arrived unexpectedly, and called us to assist him in an emergency Resetting of a fractured lower Mandible. The Patient, who was a wealthy city Merchant, had had the Misfortune
to have been kicked in the Face, according to his Wife, by his own Horse. This Custom was all to the Good for Dr Hunter, who was to be heartily recompensed for the Inconvenience; but I had been busy about the Hospital since Dawn, and I was tired and irritable.
The Injury, which had occurred within the Houre, was not threatening to Life, altho’ the ragged Break was in a difficult and delicate Position on the lower Maxilla hard by the Trigeminal Nerve. Erasmus made certain that the night-time Theatre was exceptionally well lit, whilst I ensured Provision of Lint and Curette. Dr Hunter inspected the Area closely and then carefully removed a Quantity of bony Fragments from the torn Muscle, before turning the afflicted Area over to Erasmus and My Self that we should set, bathe, and close the Wound. By now it was nearing nine, and Dr Hunter, assessing our Progress to have been sound, left to seek his Dinner.
Erasmus and My Self being as ravenous as he, it did not take long for us to finish with the Merchant, who left the Hospital in Company with his Wife and Son and his Jaw bound up so tightly in a linen Turban that he could not speak. I warned his Family that it was unlike that he would be able to converse freely, or to consume anything more substantial than Soup, for a considerable while. To my Surprize, they seemed absurdly happy about this, as if his Silence had been an added Beneficence on my Part; but verily I could not have cared less whether I had bandaged Cicero, or Mr Punch.
The November Aire was foggy, a thick smoaky Dampe spreading all across the low lying City in a foul Cloud that all Daye had not lifted. It seemed to me to have been of that Species of Strength-sapping Cold which, tho’ not freezing in itself, penetrates inward
to chill the Lungs, and to congeal the Spirits. If Descartes had been right, and mine Heart’s Function had been that of a Crucible, it should have had a Promethean Task in front of it.