Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales

MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES


Contents:

Introduction
Murad the Unlucky
The Limerick Gloves
Madame de Fleury




INTRODUCTION


Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in Ireland in
the latter part of the sixteenth century. Her father at the age of five-
and-twenty inherited the family estates at Edgeworthstown in 1769. He
had snatched an early marriage, which did not prove happy. He had a
little son, whom he was educating upon the principles set forth in
Rousseau's "Emile," and a daughter Maria, who was born on the 1st of
January, 1767. He was then living at Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead. In
March, 1773, his first wife died after giving birth to a daughter named
Anna. In July, 1773, he married again, Honora Sneyd, and went to live in
Ireland, taking with him his daughter Maria, who was then about six years
old. Two years afterwards she was sent from Ireland to a school at
Derby. In April, 1780, her father's second wife died, and advised him
upon her death-bed to marry her sister Elizabeth. He married his
deceased wife's sister on the next following Christmas Day. Maria
Edgeworth was in that year removed to a school in London, and her
holidays were often spent with her father's friend Thomas Day, the author
of "Sandford and Merton," an eccentric enthusiast who lived then at
Anningsley, in Surrey.

Maria Edgeworth--always a little body--was conspicuous among her
schoolfellows for quick wit, and was apt alike for study and invention.
She was story-teller general to the community. In 1782, at the age of
fifteen, she left school and went home with her father and his third
wife, who then settled finally at Edgeworthstown.

At Edgeworthstown Richard Lovell Edgeworth now became active in the
direct training of his children, in the improvement of his estate, and in
schemes for the improvement of the country. His eldest daughter, Maria,
showing skill with the pen, he made her more and more his companion and
fellow-worker to good ends. She kept household accounts, had entrusted
to her the whole education of a little brother, wrote stories on a slate
and read them to the family, wiped them off when not approved, and copied
them in ink if they proved popular with the home public. Miss
Edgeworth's first printed book was a plea for the education of women,
"Letters to Literary Ladies," published in 1795, when her age was eight-
and-twenty. Next year, 1796, working with her father, she produced the
first volume of the "Parent's Assistant." In November, 1797, when Miss
Edgeworth's age was nearly thirty-one, her father, then aged fifty-three,
lost his third wife, and he married a fourth in the following May. The
fourth wife, at first objected to, was young enough to be a companion and
friend, and between her and Maria Edgeworth a fast friendship came to be
established. In the year of her father's fourth marriage Maria joined
him in the production of two volumes on "Practical Education." Then
followed books for children, including "Harry and Lucy," which had been
begun by her father years before in partnership with his second wife,
when Thomas Day began writing "Sandford and Merton," with the original
intention that it should be worked in as a part of the whole scheme.

In the year 1800 Miss Edgeworth, thirty-three years old, began her
independent career as a novelist with "Castle Rackrent;" and from that
time on, work followed work in illustration of the power of a woman of
genius to associate quick wit and quick feeling with sound sense and a
good reason for speaking. Sir Walter Scott in his frank way declared
that he received an impulse from Miss Edgeworth's example as a
story-teller. In the general preface to his own final edition of the
Waverley Novels he said that "Without being so presumptuous as to hope to
emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which
pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that something might
be attempted for my own country of the same kind with that which Miss
Edgeworth so fortunately achieved for Ireland--something which might
introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in a more favourable
light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy
for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles."

Of the three stories in this volume, who--"Murad the Unlucky" and "The
Limerick Gloves"--first appeared in three volumes of "Popular Tales,"
which were first published in 1804, with a short introduction by Miss
Edgeworth's father. "Madame de Fleury" was written a few years later.

H. M.




MURAD THE UNLUCKY


CHAPTER I


It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at
night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the caliph
Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.

One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
several of the principal streets of the city without seeing anything
remarkable. At length, as they were passing a rope-maker's, the sultan
recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan Alhabal, the rope-maker,
and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who differed so much in their
opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.

"What is your opinion on this subject?" said the grand seignior to his
vizier.

"I am inclined, please your majesty," replied the vizier, "to think that
success in the world depends more upon prudence than upon what is called
luck, or fortune."

"And I," said the sultan, "am persuaded that fortune does more for men
than prudence. Do you not every day hear of persons who are said to be
fortunate or unfortunate? How comes it that this opinion should prevail
amongst men, if it be not justified by experience?"

"It is not for me to dispute with your majesty," replied the prudent
vizier.

"Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it," said the sultan.

"Then I am of opinion," answered the vizier, "that people are often led
to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely because they only
know the general outline of their histories; and are ignorant of the
incidents and events in which they have shown prudence or imprudence. I
have heard, for instance, that there are at present, in this city, two
men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune: one is called
Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky. Now, I am inclined
to think, if we could hear their stories, we should find that one is a
prudent and the other an imprudent character."

"Where do these men live?" interrupted the sultan. "I will hear their
histories from their own lips before I sleep."

"Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square," said the vizier.

The sultan desired to go thither immediately. Scarcely had they entered
the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations. They followed
the sound till they came to a house of which the door was open, and where
there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping bitterly. They asked the
cause of his distress, and he pointed to the fragments of a china vase,
which lay on the pavement at his door.

"This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china," said the sultan, taking
up one of the broken pieces; "but can the loss of a china vase be the
cause of such violent grief and despair?"

"Ah, gentlemen," said the owner of the vase, suspending his lamentations,
and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants, "I see that you are
strangers: you do not know how much cause I have for grief and despair!
You do not know that you are speaking to Murad the Unlucky! Were you to
hear all the unfortunate accidents that have happened to me, from the
time I was born till this instant, you would perhaps pity me, and
acknowledge I have just cause for despair."

Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan; and the hope of obtaining
sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it by the recital of his adventures.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I scarcely dare invite you into the house of such
an unlucky being as I am; but if you will venture to take a night's
lodging under my roof, you shall hear at your leisure the story of my
misfortunes."

The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the night with
Murad, saying that they were obliged to proceed to their khan, where they
should be expected by their companions; but they begged permission to
repose themselves for half an hour in his house, and besought him to
relate the history of his life, if it would not renew his grief too much
to recollect his misfortunes.

Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their misfortunes,
where they have, or where they think they have, any chance of obtaining
compassion. As soon as the pretended merchants were seated, Murad began
his story in the following manner:--

"My father was a merchant of this city. The night before I was born he
dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a dog and the tail of
a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my deformity, he rolled me up in
a piece of linen, which unluckily proved to be the grind seignior's
turban; who, enraged at his insolence in touching his turban, commanded
that his head should be struck off.

"My father awaked before he lost his head, but not before he had lost
half his wits from the terror of his dream. He considered it as a
warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid the sight
of me. He would not stay to see whether I should really be born with the
head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; but he set out, the next morning,
on a voyage to Aleppo.

"He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that time my
education was totally neglected. One day I inquired from my mother why I
had been named Murad the Unlucky. She told me that this name was given
to me in consequence of my father's dream; but she added that perhaps it
might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate in my future life. My nurse, a
very old woman, who was present, shook her head, with a look which I
shall never forget, and whispered to my mother loud enough for me to
hear, 'Unlucky he was, and is, and ever will be. Those that are born to
ill luck cannot help themselves; nor can any, but the great prophet,
Mahomet himself, do anything for them. It is a folly for an unlucky
person to strive with their fate: it is better to yield to it at once.'

"This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I then was; and
every accident that happened to me afterwards confirmed my belief in my
nurse's prognostic. I was in my eighth year when my father returned from
abroad. The year after he came home my brother Saladin was born, who was
named Saladin the Lucky, because the day he was born a vessel freighted
with rich merchandise for my father arrived safely in port.

"I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances of good
fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even during his
childhood. As he grew up, his success in everything he undertook was as
remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted. From the time the
rich vessel arrived, we lived in splendour; and the supposed prosperous
state of my father's affairs was of course attributed to the influence of
my brother Saladin's happy destiny.

"When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously ill; and
as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my brother to the side
of his bed, and, to his great surprise, informed him that the
magnificence in which we had lived had exhausted all his wealth; that his
affairs were in the greatest disorder; for, having trusted to the hope of
continual success, he had embarked in projects beyond his powers.

"The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children but
two large china vases, remarkable for their beauty, but still more
valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in an unknown
character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman or charm in
favour of their possessors.

"Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin; declaring
he could not venture to leave either of them to me, because I was so
unlucky that I should inevitably break it. After his death, however, my
brother Saladin, who was blessed with a generous temper, gave me my
choice of the two vases; and endeavoured to raise my spirits by repeating
frequently that he had no faith either in good fortune or ill fortune.

"I could not be of his opinion, though I felt and acknowledged his
kindness in trying to persuade me out of my settled melancholy. I knew
it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure that, do what I
would, I should still be Murad the Unlucky. My brother, on the contrary,
was nowise cast down, even by the poverty in which my father left us: he
said he was sure he should find some means of maintaining himself; and so
he did.

"On examining our china vases, he found in them a powder of a bright
scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a fine dye. He
tried it, and after some trouble, it succeeded to admiration.

"During my father's lifetime, my mother had been supplied with rich
dresses by one of the merchants who was employed by the ladies of the
grand seignior's seraglio. My brother had done this merchant some
trifling favours, and, upon application to him, he readily engaged to
recommend the new scarlet dye. Indeed, it was so beautiful, that, the
moment it was seen, it was preferred to every other colour. Saladin's
shop was soon crowded with customers; and his winning manners and
pleasant conversation were almost as advantageous to him as his scarlet
dye. On the contrary, I observed that the first glance at my melancholy
countenance was sufficient to disgust every one who saw me. I perceived
this plainly; and it only confirmed me the more in my belief in my own
evil destiny.

"It happened one day that a lady, richly apparelled and attended by two
female slaves, came to my brother's house to make some purchases. He was
out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop. After she had looked
over some goods, she chanced to see my china vase, which was in the room.
She took a prodigious fancy to it, and offered me any price if I would
part with it; but this I declined doing, because I believed that I should
draw down upon my head some dreadful calamity if I voluntarily
relinquished the talisman. Irritated by my refusal, the lady, according
to the custom of her sex, became more resolute in her purpose; but
neither entreaties nor money could change my determination. Provoked
beyond measure at my obstinacy, as she called it, she left the house.

"On my brother's return, I related to him what had happened, and expected
that he would have praised me for my prudence; but, on the contrary, he
blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the verses on my vase;
and observed that it would be the height of folly to lose a certain means
of advancing my fortune for the uncertain hope of magical protection. I
could not bring myself to be of his opinion; I had not the courage to
follow the advice he gave. The next day the lady returned, and my
brother sold his vase to her for ten thousand pieces of gold. This money
he laid out in the most advantageous manner, by purchasing a new stock of
merchandise. I repented when it was too late; but I believe it is part
of the fatality attending certain persons, that they cannot decide
rightly at the proper moment. When the opportunity has been lost, I have
always regretted that I did not do exactly the contrary to what I had
previously determined upon. Often, whilst I was hesitating, the
favourable moment passed. {1} Now this is what I call being unlucky. But
to proceed with my story.

"The lady who bought my brother Saladin's vase was the favourite of the
Sultan, and all-powerful in the seraglio. Her dislike to me, in
consequence of my opposition to her wishes, was so violent, that she
refused to return to my brother's house while I remained there. He was
unwilling to part with me; but I could not bear to be the ruin of so good
a brother. Without telling him my design, I left his house careless of
what should become of me. Hunger, however, soon compelled me to think of
some immediate mode of obtaining relief. I sat down upon a stone, before
the door of a baker's shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and
with a feeble voice I demanded charity.

"The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon condition
that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls for him through
the city this day. To this I readily consented; but I had soon reason to
repent of my compliance. Indeed, if my ill-luck had not, as usual,
deprived me at this critical moment of memory and judgment, I should
never have complied with the baker's treacherous proposal. For some time
before, the people of Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the
weight and quality of the bread furnished by the bakers. This species of
discontent has often been the sure forerunner of an insurrection; and, in
these disturbances, the master bakers frequently lose their lives. All
these circumstances I knew, but they did not occur to my memory when they
might have been useful.

"I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded through
the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to gather round
me with reproaches and execrations. The crowd pursued me even to the
gates of the grand seignior's palace, and the grand vizier, alarmed at
their violence, sent out an order to have my head struck off; the usual
remedy, in such cases, being to strike off the baker's head.

"I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for whom
they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I had never
furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that was not weight. I
declared I had merely changed clothes with a master baker for this day,
and that I should not have done so but for the evil destiny which governs
all my actions. Some of the mob exclaimed that I deserved to lose my
head for my folly; but others took pity on me, and whilst the officer,
who was sent to execute the vizier's order, turned to speak to some of
the noisy rioters, those who were touched by my misfortune opened a
passage for me through the crowd, and thus favoured, I effected my
escape.

"I quitted Constantinople; my vase I had left in the care of my brother.
At some miles' distance from the city I overtook a party of soldiers. I
joined them, and learning that they were going to embark with the rest of
the grand seignior's army for Egypt, I resolved to accompany them. 'If
it be,' thought I, 'the will of Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner
I meet my fate the better.' The despondency into which I was sunk was
attended by so great a degree of indolence, that I scarcely would take
the necessary means to preserve my existence. During our passage to
Egypt I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking my pipe,
and I am convinced that if a storm had risen, as I expected, I should not
have taken my pipe from my mouth, nor should I have handled a rope to
save myself from destruction. Such is the effect of that species of
resignation, or torpor, whichever you please to call it, to which my
strong belief in fatality had reduced my mind.

"We landed, however, safely, contrary to my melancholy forebodings. By a
trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer than any of
my companions in the vessel when we disembarked, and I did not arrive at
the camp till late at night. It was moonlight, and I could see the whole
scene distinctly. There was a vast number of small tents scattered over
a desert of white sand; a few date-trees were visible at a distance; all
was gloomy, and all still; no sound was to be heard but that of the
camels feeding near the tents, and, as I walked on, I met with no human
creature.

"My pipe was now out, and I quickened my pace a little towards a fire
which I saw near one of the tents. As I proceeded, my eye was caught by
something sparkling in the sand: it was a ring. I picked it up and put
it on my finger, resolving to give it to the public crier the next
morning, who might find out its rightful owner; but, by ill-luck, I put
it on my little finger, for which it was much too large, and as I
hastened towards the fire to light my pipe, I dropped the ring. I
stooped to search for it amongst the provender on which a mule was
feeding, and the cursed animal gave me so violent a kick on the head that
I could not help roaring aloud.

"My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the mule was
feeding. Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were ready enough to
think ill of me, and they took it for granted that I was a thief, who had
stolen the ring I pretended to have just found. The ring was taken from
me by force, and the next day I was bastinadoed for having found it; the
officer persisting in the belief that stripes would make me confess where
I had concealed certain other articles of value which had lately been
missed in the camp. All this was the consequence of my being in a hurry
to light my pipe and of my having put the ring on a finger that was too
little for it, which no one but Murad the Unlucky would have done.

"When I was able to walk again, after my wounds were healed, I went into
one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been told that these
were coffee-houses. Whilst I was drinking coffee I heard a stranger near
me complaining that he had not been able to recover a valuable ring he
had lost, although he had caused his loss to be published for three days
by the public crier, offering a reward of two hundred sequins to whoever
should restore it. I guessed that this was the very ring which I had
unfortunately found. I addressed myself to the stranger, and promised to
point out to him the person who had forced it from me. The stranger
recovered his ring, and, being convinced that I had acted honestly, he
made me a present of two hundred sequins, as some amends for the
punishment which I had unjustly suffered on his account.

"Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous to me.
Far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.

"One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the same tent
with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the pleasure of
counting my treasure. The next day I was invited by my companions to
drink sherbet with them. What they mixed with the sherbet which I drank
I know not, but I could not resist the drowsiness it brought on. I fell
into a profound slumber, and when I awoke, I found myself lying under a
date-tree, at some distance from the camp.

"The first thing I thought of when I came to my recollection was my purse
of sequins. The purse I found still safe in my girdle; but on opening
it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and not a single sequin
was left. I had no doubt that I had been robbed by the soldiers with
whom I had drunk sherbet, and I am certain that some of them must have
been awake the night I counted my money; otherwise, as I had never
trusted the secret of my riches to any one, they could not have suspected
me of possessing any property; for ever since I kept company with them I
had appeared to be in great indigence.

"I applied in vain to the superior officers for redress: the soldiers
protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared against them,
and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and ill-will. I called
myself, in the first transport of my grief, by that name which, since my
arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce: I called myself Murad the
Unlucky. The name and the story ran through the camp, and I was
accosted, afterwards, very frequently, by this appellation. Some,
indeed, varied their wit by calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.

"All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
misfortunes.

"It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the soldiers to
amuse themselves with firing at a mark. The superior officers
remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but ineffectually.
Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after
a message was brought them from their commanders, and then they would
begin again, in defiance of all orders. Such was the want of discipline
in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished. In the meantime,
the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it. I
have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly
seated smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
fresh aim at the red flag on the top.

"This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence of body; in
others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco and of
opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence which
the belief in predestination inspired. When a bullet killed one of their
companions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes from their
mouths, 'Our hour is not yet come: it is not the will of Mahomet that we
should fall.'