The Story of St. Vespaluus

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　"Tell me a story," said the Baroness, staring out despairingly atthe rain; it was that light, apologetic sort of rain that looks asif it was going to leave off every minute and goes on for thegreater part of the afternoon."What sort of story?" asked Clovis, giving his croquet mallet avaledictory shove into retirement."One just true enough to be interesting and not true enough to betiresome," said the Baroness.Clovis rearranged several cushions to his personal solace andsatisfaction; he knew that the Baroness liked her guests to hecomfortable, and he thought it right to respect her wishes in thatparticular."Have I ever told you the story of Saint Vespaluus?" he asked."You've told me stories about grand-dukes and lion-tamers andfinanciers' widows and a postmaster in Herzegovina," said theBaroness, "and about an Italian jockey and an amateur governesswho went to Warsaw, and several about your mother, but certainlynever anything about a saint.""This story happened a long while ago," he said, "in thoseuncomfortable piebald times when a third of the people were Pagan,and a third Christian, and the biggest third of all just followedwhichever religion the Court happened to profess. There was acertain king called Hkrikros, who had a fearful temper and noimmediate successor in his own family; his married sister,however, had provided him with a large stock of nephews from whichto select his heir. And the most eligible and royally-approved ofall these nephews was the sixteen-year-old Vespaluus. He was thebest looking, and the best horseman and javelin-thrower, and hadthat priceless princely gift of being able to walk past asupplicant with an air of not having seen him, but would certainlyhave given something if he had. My mother has that gift to acertain extent; she can go smilingly and financially unscathedthrough a charity bazaar, and meet the organizers next day with asolicitous 'had I but known you were in need of funds' air that isreally rather a triumph in audacity. Now Hkrikros was a Pagan ofthe first water, and kept the worship of the sacred serpents, wholived in a hallowed grove on a hill near the royal palace, up to ahigh pitch of enthusiasm. The common people were allowed toplease themselves, within certain discreet limits, in the matterof private religion, but any official in the service of the Courtwho went over to the new cult was looked down on, literally aswell as metaphorically, the looking down being done from thegallery that ran round the royal bear-pit. Consequently there wasconsiderable scandal and consternation when the youthful Vespaluusappeared one day at a Court function with a rosary tucked into hisbelt, and announced in reply to angry questionings that he haddecided to adopt Christianity, or at any rate to give it a trial.If it had been any of the other nephews the king would possiblyhave ordered something drastic in the way of scourging andbanishment, but in the case of the favoured Vespaluus hedetermined to look on the whole thing much as a modern fathermight regard the announced intention of his son to adopt the stageas a profession. He sent accordingly for the Royal Librarian.The royal library in those days was not a very extensive affair,and the keeper of the king's books had a great deal of leisure onhis hands. Consequently he was in frequent demand for thesettlement of other people's affairs when these strayed beyondnormal limits and got temporarily unmanageable."'You must reason with Prince Vespaluus,' said the king, 'andimpress on him the error of his ways. We cannot have the heir tothe throne setting such a dangerous example.'"'But where shall I find the necessary arguments?' asked theLibrarian."'I give you free leave to pick and choose your arguments in theroyal woods and coppices,' said the king; 'if you cannot gettogether some cutting observations and stinging retorts suitableto the occasion you are a person of very poor resource.'"So the Librarian went into the woods and gathered a goodlyselection of highly argumentative rods and switches, and thenproceeded to reason with Vespaluus on the folly and iniquity andabove all the unseemliness of his conduct. His reasoning left adeep impression on the young prince, an impression which lastedfor many weeks, during which time nothing more was heard about theunfortunate lapse into Christianity. Then a further scandal ofthe same nature agitated the Court. At a time when he should havebeen engaged in audibly invoking the gracious protection andpatronage of the holy serpents, Vespaluus was heard singing achant in honour of St. Odilo of Cluny. The king was furious atthis new outbreak, and began to take a gloomy view of thesituation; Vespaluus was evidently going to show a dangerousobstinacy in persisting in his heresy. And yet there was nothingin his appearance to justify such perverseness; he had not thepale eye of the fanatic or the mystic look of the dreamer. On thecontrary, he was quite the best-looking boy at Court; he had anelegant, well-knit figure, a healthy complexion, eyes the colourof very ripe mulberries, and dark hair, smooth and very well caredfor.""It sounds like a description of what you imagine yourself to havebeen like at the age of sixteen," said the Baroness."My mother has probably been showing you some of my earlyphotographs," said Clovis. Having turned the sarcasm into acompliment, he resumed his story."The king had Vespaluus shut up in a dark tower for three days,with nothing but bread and water to live on, the squealing andfluttering of bats to listen to, and drifting clouds to watchthrough one little window slit. The anti-Pagan section of thecommunity began to talk portentously of the boy-martyr. Themartyrdom was mitigated, as far as the food was concerned, by thecarelessness of the tower warden, who once or twice left a portionof his own supper of broiled meat and fruit and wine by mistake inthe prince's cell. After the punishment was over, Vespaluus wasclosely watched for any further symptom of religious perversity,for the king was determined to stand no more opposition on soimportant a matter, even from a favourite nephew. If there wasany more of this nonsense, he said, the succession to the thronewould have to be altered."For a time all went well; the festival of summer sports wasapproaching, and the young Vespaluus was too engrossed inwrestling and foot-running and javelin-throwing competitions tobother himself with the strife of conflicting religious systems.Then, however, came the great culminating feature of the summerfestival, the ceremonial dance round the grove of the sacredserpents, and Vespaluus, as we should say, 'sat it out.' Theaffront to the State religion was too public and ostentatious tobe overlooked, even if the king had been so minded, and he was notin the least so minded. For a day and a half he sat apart andbrooded, and every one thought he was debating within himself thequestion of the young prince's death or pardon; as a matter offact he was merely thinking out the manner of the boy's death. Asthe thing had to be done, and was bound to attract an enormousamount of public attention in any case, it was as well to make itas spectacular and impressive as possible."'Apart from his unfortunate taste in religions;' said the king,'and his obstinacy in adhering to it, he is a sweet and pleasantyouth, therefore it is meet and fitting that he should be done todeath by the winged envoys of sweetness.'"'Your Majesty means--?' said the Royal Librarian."'I mean,' said the king, 'that he shall be stung to death bybees. By the royal bees, of course.'"'A most elegant death,' said the Librarian."'Elegant and spectacular, and decidedly painful,' said the king;'it fulfils all the conditions that could be wished for.'"The king himself thought out all the details of the executionceremony. Vespaluus was to be stripped of his clothes, his handswere to he bound behind him, and he was then to be slung in arecumbent position immediately above three of the largest of theroyal beehives, so that the least movement of his body would bringhim in jarring contact with them. The rest could be safely leftto the bees. The death throes, the king computed, might lastanything from fifteen to forty minutes, though there was divisionof opinion and considerable wagering among the other nephews as towhether death might not be almost instantaneous, or, on the otherhand, whether it might not be deferred for a couple of hours.Anyway, they all agreed, it was vastly preferable to being throwndown into an evil smelling bear-pit and being clawed and mauled todeath by imperfectly carnivorous animals."It so happened, however, that the keeper of the royal hives hadleanings towards Christianity himself, and moreover, like most ofthe Court officials, he was very much attached to Vespaluus. Onthe eve of the execution, therefore, he busied himself withremoving the stings from all the royal bees; it was a long anddelicate operation, but he was an expert bee-master, and byworking hard nearly all night he succeeded in disarming all, oralmost all, of the hive inmates.""I didn't know you could take the sting from a live bee," said theBaroness incredulously."Every profession, has its secrets," replied Clovis; "if it hadn'tit wouldn't be a profession. Well, the moment for the executionarrived; the king and Court took their places, and accommodationwas found for as many of the populace as wished to witness theunusual spectacle. Fortunately the royal bee-yard was ofconsiderable dimensions, and was commanded, moreover, by theterraces that ran round the royal gardens; with a little squeezingand the erection of a few platforms room was found for everybody.Vespaluus was carried into the open space in front of the hives,blushing and slightly embarrassed, but not at all displeased atthe attention which was being centred on him.""He seems to have resembled you in more things than inappearance," said the Baroness."Don't interrupt at a critical point in the story," said Clovis."As soon as he had been carefully adjusted in the prescribedposition over the hives, and almost before the gaolers had time toretire to a safe distance, Vespaluus gave a lusty and well-aimedkick, which sent all three hives toppling one over another. Thenext moment he was wrapped from head to foot in bees; eachindividual insect nursed the dreadful and humiliating knowledgethat in this supreme hour of catastrophe it could not sting, buteach felt that it ought to pretend to. Vespaluus squealed andwriggled with laughter, for he was being tickled nearly to death,and now and again he gave a furious kick and used a bad word asone of the few bees that had escaped disarmament got its protesthome. But the spectators saw with amazement that he showed nosigns of approaching death agony, and as the bees dropped wearilyaway in clusters from his body his flesh was seen to be as whiteand smooth as before the ordeal, with a shiny glaze from thehoney-smear of innumerable bee-feet, and here and there a smallred spot where one of the rare stings had left its mark. It wasobvious that a miracle had been performed in his favour, and oneloud murmur, of astonishment or exultation, rose from theonlooking crowd. The king gave orders for Vespaluus to be takendown to await further orders, and stalked silently back to hismidday meal, at which he was careful to eat heartily and drinkcopiously as though nothing unusual had happened. After dinner hesent for the Royal Librarian."'What is the meaning of this fiasco?' he demanded."'Your Majesty,' said that official, 'either there is somethingradically wrong with the bees--'"'There is nothing wrong with my bees,' said the king haughtily,'they are the best bees.'"'Or else,' said the Librarian, 'there is something irremediablyright about Prince Vespaluus.'"'If Vespaluus is right I must be wrong,' said the king."The Librarian was silent for a moment. Hasty speech has been thedownfall of many; ill-considered silence was the undoing of theluckless Court functionary."Forgetting the restraint due to his dignity, and the golden rulewhich imposes repose of mind and body after a heavy meal, the kingrushed upon the keeper of the royal books and hit him repeatedlyand promiscuously over the head with an ivory chessboard, a pewterwine-flagon, and a brass candlestick; he knocked him violently andoften against an iron torch sconce, and kicked him thrice roundthe banqueting chamber with rapid, energetic kicks. Finally, hedragged him down a long passage by the hair of his head and flunghim out of a window into the courtyard below.""Was he much hurt?" asked the Baroness."More hurt than surprised," said Clovis. You see, the king wasnotorious for his violent temper. However, this was the firsttime he had let himself go so unrestrainedly on the top of a heavymeal. The Librarian lingered for many days--in fact, for all Iknow, he may have ultimately recovered, but Hkrikros died thatsame evening. Vespaluus had hardly finished getting the honeystains off his body before a hurried deputation came to put thecoronation oil on his head. And what with the publicly-witnessedmiracle and the accession of a Christian sovereign, it was notsurprising that there was a general scramble of converts to thenew religion. A hastily consecrated bishop was overworked with arush of baptisms in the hastily improvised Cathedral of St. Odilo.And the boy-martyr-that-might-have-been was transposed in thepopular imagination into a royal boy-saint, whose fame attractedthrongs of curious and devout sightseers to the capital.Vespaluus, who was busily engaged in organizing the games andathletic contests that were to mark the commencement of his reign,had no time to give heed to the religious fervour which waseffervescing round his personality; the first indication he had ofthe existing state of affairs was when the Court Chamberlain (arecent and very ardent addition to the Christian community)brought for his approval the outlines of a projected ceremonialcutting-down of the idolatrous serpent-grove."'Your Majesty will be graciously pleased to cut down the firsttree with a specially consecrated axe,' said the obsequiousofficial."'I'll cut off your head first, with any axe that comes handy,'said Vespaluus indignantly; 'do you suppose that I'm going tobegin my reign by mortally affronting the sacred serpents? Itwould be most unlucky.'"'But your Majesty's Christian principles?' exclaimed thebewildered Chamberlain."'I never had, any,' said Vespaluus; ' I used to pretend to he aChristian convert just to annoy Hkrikros. He used to fly intosuch delicious tempers. And it was rather fun being whipped andscolded and shut up in a tower all for nothing. But as to turningChristian in real earnest, like you people seem to do, I couldn'tthink of such a thing. And the holy and esteemed serpents havealways helped me when I've prayed to them for success in myrunning and wrestling and hunting, and it was through theirdistinguished intercession that the bees were not able to hurt mewith their stings. It would he black ingratitude, to turn againsttheir worship at the very outset of my reign. I hate you forsuggesting it.'"The Chamberlain wrung his hands despairingly."'But, your Majesty,' he wailed, 'the people are reverencing youas a saint, and the nobles are being Christianized in batches, andneighbouring potentates of that Faith are sending special envoysto welcome you as a brother. There is some talk of making you thepatron saint of beehives, and a certain shade of honey-yellow hasbeen christened Vespaluusian gold at the Emperor's Court. Youcan't surely go back on all this.'"'I don't mind being reverenced and greeted and honoured,' saidVespaluus; 'I don't even mind being sainted in moderation, as longas I'm not expected to be saintly as well. But I wish you clearlyand finally to understand that I will NOT give up the worship ofthe august and auspicious serpents.'"There was a world of unspoken bear-pit in the way he utteredthose last words, and the mulberry-dark eyes flashed dangerously."'A new reign,' said the Chamberlain to himself, 'but the same oldtemper.'"Finally, as a State necessity, the matter of the religions wascompromised. At stated intervals the king appeared before hissubjects in the national cathedral in the character of St.Vespaluus, and the idolatrous grove was gradually pruned andlopped away till nothing remained of it. But the sacred andesteemed serpents were removed to a private shrubbery in the royalgardens, where Vespaluus the Pagan and certain members of hishousehold devoutly and decently worshipped them. That possibly isthe reason why the boy-king's success in sports and hunting neverdeserted him to the end of his days, and that is also the reasonwhy, in spite of the popular veneration for his sanctity, he neverreceived official canonization.""It has stopped raining," said the Baroness.