Read The Little Lame Prince Page 2


  CHAPTER II

  Everybody was very kind to the poor little prince. I think peoplegenerally are kind to motherless children, whether princes or peasants.He had a magnificent nursery and a regular suite of attendants, and wastreated with the greatest respect and state. Nobody was allowed to talkto him in silly baby language, or dandle him, or, above all to kiss him,though perhaps some people did it surreptitiously, for he was such asweet baby that it was difficult to help it.

  It could not be said that the Prince missed his mother--children of hisage cannot do that; but somehow after she died everything seemed to gowrong with him. From a beautiful baby he became sickly and pale, seemingto have almost ceased growing, especially in his legs, which had been sofat and strong.

  But after the day of his christening they withered and shrank; he nolonger kicked them out either in passion or play, and when, as he gotto be nearly a year old, his nurse tried to make him stand upon them, heonly tumbled down.

  This happened so many times that at last people began to talk about it.A prince, and not able to stand on his own legs! What a dreadful thing!What a misfortune for the country!

  Rather a misfortune to him also, poor little boy! but nobody seemed tothink of that. And when, after a while, his health revived, and the oldbright look came back to his sweet little face, and his body grew largerand stronger, though still his legs remained the same, people continuedto speak of him in whispers, and with grave shakes of the head.Everybody knew, though nobody said it, that something, it was impossibleto guess what, was not quite right with the poor little Prince.

  Of course, nobody hinted this to the King his father: it does not doto tell great people anything unpleasant. And besides, his Majestytook very little notice of his son, or of his other affairs, beyond thenecessary duties of his kingdom.

  People had said he would not miss the Queen at all, she having beenso long an invalid, but he did. After her death he never was quite thesame. He established himself in her empty rooms, the only rooms inthe palace whence one could see the Beautiful Mountains, and was oftenobserved looking at them as if he thought she had flown away thither,and that his longing could bring her back again. And by a curiouscoincidence, which nobody dared inquire into, he desired that the Princemight be called, not by any of the four-and-twenty grand names given himby his godfathers and godmothers, but by the identical name mentioned bythe little old woman in gray--Dolor, after his mother Dolorez.

  Once a week, according to established state custom, the Prince, dressedin his very best, was brought to the King his father for half an hour,but his Majesty was generally too ill and too melancholy to pay muchheed to the child.

  Only once, when he and the Crown-Prince, who was exceedingly attentiveto his royal brother, were sitting together, with Prince Dolor playingin a corner of the room, dragging himself about with his arms ratherthan his legs, and sometimes trying feebly to crawl from one chair toanother, it seemed to strike the father that all was not right with hisson.

  "How old is his Royal Highness?" said he suddenly to the nurse.

  "Two years, three months, and five days, please your Majesty."

  "It does not please me," said the King, with a sigh. "He ought to be farmore forward than he is now ought he not, brother? You, who have so manychildren, must know. Is there not something wrong about him?"

  "Oh, no," said the Crown-Prince, exchanging meaning looks with thenurse, who did not understand at all, but stood frightened and tremblingwith the tears in her eyes. "Nothing to make your Majesty at all uneasy.No doubt his Royal Highness will outgrow it in time."

  "Outgrow--what?"

  "A slight delicacy--ahem!--in the spine; something inherited, perhaps,from his dear mother."

  "Ah, she was always delicate; but she was the sweetest woman that everlived. Come here, my little son."

  And as the Prince turned round upon his father a small, sweet, graveface,--so like his mother's,--his Majesty the King smiled and held outhis arms. But when the boy came to him, not running like a boy, butwriggling awkwardly along the floor, the royal countenance clouded over.

  "I ought to have been told of this. It is terrible--terrible! And for aprince too. Send for all the doctors in my kingdom immediately."

  They came, and each gave a different opinion and ordered a differentmode of treatment. The only thing they agreed in was what had beenpretty well known before, that the Prince must have been hurt when hewas an infant--let fall, perhaps, so as to injure his spine and lowerlimbs. Did nobody remember?

  No, nobody. Indignantly, all the nurses denied that any such accidenthad happened, was possible to have happened, until the faithfulcountry nurse recollected that it really had happened on the day of thechristening. For which unluckily good memory all the others scolded herso severely that she had no peace of her life, and soon after, by theinfluence of the young lady nurse who had carried the baby that fatalday, and who was a sort of connection of the Crown-Prince--being hiswife's second cousin once removed--the poor woman was pensioned off andsent to the Beautiful Mountains from whence she came, with orders toremain there for the rest of her days.

  But of all this the King knew nothing, for, indeed, after the firstshock of finding out that his son could not walk, and seemed neverlikely to he interfered very little concerning him. The whole thing wastoo painful, and his Majesty never liked painful things. Sometimes heinquired after Prince Dolor, and they told him his Royal Highness wasgoing on as well as could be expected, which really was the case. For,after worrying the poor child and perplexing themselves with one remedyafter another, the Crown-Prince, not wishing to offend any of thediffering doctors, had proposed leaving him to Nature; and Nature, thesafest doctor of all, had come to his help and done her best.

  He could not walk, it is true; his limbs were mere useless appendages tohis body; but the body itself was strong and sound. And his face was thesame as ever--just his mother's face, one of the sweetest in the world.

  Even the King, indifferent as he was, sometimes looked at the littlefellow with sad tenderness, noticing how cleverly he learned to crawland swing himself about by his arms, so that in his own awkward way hewas as active in motion as most children of his age.

  "Poor little man! he does his best, and he is not unhappy--not halfso unhappy as I, brother," addressing the Crown-Prince, who was moreconstant than ever in his attendance upon the sick monarch. "If anythingshould befall me, I have appointed you Regent. In case of my death, youwill take care of my poor little boy?"

  "Certainly, certainly; but do not let us imagine any such misfortune.I assure your Majesty--everybody will assure you--that it is not in theleast likely."

  He knew, however, and everybody knew, that it was likely, and soon afterit actually did happen. The King died as suddenly and quietly as theQueen had done--indeed, in her very room and bed; and Prince Dolor wasleft without either father or mother--as sad a thing as could happen,even to a prince.

  He was more than that now, though. He was a king. In Nomansland, as inother countries, the people were struck with grief one day and revivedthe next. "The king is dead--long live the king!" was the cry that rangthrough the nation, and almost before his late Majesty had been laidbeside the Queen in their splendid mausoleum, crowds came thronging fromall parts to the royal palace, eager to see the new monarch.

  They did see him,--the Prince Regent took care they should,--sitting onthe floor of the council chamber, sucking his thumb! And when one ofthe gentlemen-in-waiting lifted him up and carried him--fancy carrying aking!--to the chair of state, and put the crown on his head, he shook itoff again, it was so heavy and uncomfortable. Sliding down to the footof the throne he began playing with the golden lions that supported it,stroking their paws and putting his tiny fingers into their eyes, andlaughing--laughing as if he had at last found something to amuse him.

  "There's a fine king for you!" said the first lord-in-waiting, a friendof the Prince Regent's (the Crown-Prince that used to be, who, in thedeepest mourning, stood silently besid
e the throne of his young nephew.He was a handsome man, very grand and clever-looking). "What a king! whocan never stand to receive his subjects, never walk in processions, whoto the last day of his life will have to be carried about like a baby.Very unfortunate!"

  "Exceedingly unfortunate," repeated the second lord. "It is always badfor a nation when its king is a child; but such a child--a permanentcripple, if not worse."

  "Let us hope not worse," said the first lord in a very hopeless tone,and looking toward the Regent, who stood erect and pretended to hearnothing. "I have heard that these sort of children with very largeheads, and great broad fore-heads and staring eyes, are--well, well, letus hope for the best and be prepared for the worst. In the meantime----"

  "I swear," said the Crown-Prince, coming forward and kissing the hilt ofhis sword--"I swear to perform my duties as Regent, to take all care ofhis Royal Highness--his Majesty, I mean," with a grand bow to the littlechild, who laughed innocently back again. "And I will do my humblebest to govern the country. Still, if the country has the slightestobjection----"

  But the Crown-Prince being generalissimo, having the whole army at hisbeck and call, so that he could have begun a civil war in no time, thecountry had, of course, not the slightest objection.

  So the King and Queen slept together in peace, and Prince Dolor reignedover the land--that is, his uncle did; and everybody said what afortunate thing it was for the poor little Prince to have such a cleveruncle to take care of him.

  All things went on as usual; indeed, after the Regent had brought hiswife and her seven sons, and established them in the palace, ratherbetter than usual. For they gave such splendid entertainments and madethe capital so lively that trade revived, and the country was said to bemore flourishing than it had been for a century. Whenever the Regentand his sons appeared, they were received with shouts: "Long live theCrown-Prince!" "Long live the royal family!" And, in truth, they werevery fine children, the whole seven of them, and made a great showwhen they rode out together on seven beautiful horses, one height aboveanother, down to the youngest, on his tiny black pony, no bigger than alarge dog.

  As for the other child, his Royal Highness Prince Dolor,--for somehowpeople soon ceased to call him his Majesty, which seemed such aridiculous title for a poor little fellow, a helpless cripple,--withonly head and trunk, and no legs to speak of,--he was seen very seldomby anybody.

  Sometimes people daring enough to peer over the high wall of the palacegarden noticed there, carried in a footman's arms, or drawn in a chair,or left to play on the grass, often with nobody to mind him, a prettylittle boy, with a bright, intelligent face and large, melancholyeyes--no, not exactly melancholy, for they were his mother's, and shewas by no means sad-minded, but thoughtful and dreamy. They ratherperplexed people, those childish eyes; they were so exceedingly innocentand yet so penetrating. If anybody did a wrong thing--told a lie, forinstance they would turn round with such a grave, silent surprise thechild never talked much--that every naughty person in the palace wasrather afraid of Prince Dolor.

  He could not help it, and perhaps he did not even know it, being nobetter a child than many other children, but there was somethingabout him which made bad people sorry, and grumbling people ashamed ofthemselves, and ill-natured people gentle and kind.

  I suppose because they were touched to see a poor little fellow whodid not in the least know what had befallen him or what lay before him,living his baby life as happy as the day is long. Thus, whether or nothe was good himself, the sight of him and his affliction made otherpeople good, and, above all, made everybody love him--so much so, thathis uncle the Regent began to feel a little uncomfortable.

  Now, I have nothing to say against uncles in general. They are usuallyvery excellent people, and very convenient to little boys and girls.Even the "cruel uncle" of the "Babes in the Wood" I believe to be quitean exceptional character. And this "cruel uncle" of whom I am tellingwas, I hope, an exception, too.

  He did not mean to be cruel. If anybody had called him so, he wouldhave resented it extremely: he would have said that what he did was doneentirely for the good of the country. But he was a man who had alwaysbeen accustomed to consider himself first and foremost, believing thatwhatever he wanted was sure to be right, and therefore he ought to haveit. So he tried to get it, and got it too, as people like him very oftendo. Whether they enjoy it when they have it is another question.

  Therefore he went one day to the council chamber, determined on makinga speech, and informing the ministers and the country at large that theyoung King was in failing health, and that it would be advisable to sendhim for a time to the Beautiful Mountains. Whether he really meant todo this, or whether it occurred to him afterward that there would be aneasier way of attaining his great desire, the crown of Nomansland, is apoint which I cannot decide.

  But soon after, when he had obtained an order in council to send theKing away, which was done in great state, with a guard of honor composedof two whole regiments of soldiers,--the nation learned, without muchsurprise, that the poor little Prince--nobody ever called him kingnow--had gone a much longer journey than to the Beautiful Mountains.

  He had fallen ill on the road and died within a few hours; at least sodeclared the physician in attendance and the nurse who had been sentto take care of him. They brought his coffin back in great state, andburied it in the mausoleum with his parents.

  So Prince Dolor was seen no more. The country went into deep mourningfor him, and then forgot him, and his uncle reigned in his stead. Thatillustrious personage accepted his crown with great decorum, and wore itwith great dignity to the last. But whether he enjoyed it or not thereis no evidence to show.