The Cobbler & the Brownies

Our cobbler had both directions from a Brownie and Luck! It wasn't long after sunrise the next morning before he had discovered where this great cache was hidden, and soon had in his the hands the top-most of several chests packed to overfilling with ill-gotten gold and silver. The cobbler for now just took a few handfuls into his pockets, enough to travel into town to buy better clothes, supplies and start a new more promising identify as a younger son of a minor, but well-to-do family.

Within weeks, the cobbler had established nearly all of his goals! He now had good clothes and a small but nice house in town and his name was on nearly everyone's lips as a young nobleman of good manners and extreme generosity. No beggar, orphan or widow ever passed him but that they would receive a coin or two from his hand and a wish for their well-being. It didn't take long for him to become the most popular young man in town, invited to every party and social function and with the pick of the town's finest maidens to choose from and select to be his wife. But our cobbler had other thoughts for his future bride-to-be.

Arrangements had been enacted to immediately purchase the wilderness hills where the majority of his treasure horde remained safely secured and with these lands a modest title was entailed. That Lord in question was quite land rich, but had no heirs and was very cash poor and was readily willing to sell off his lands and title so that he could live his remaining years in relative comfort in town. With a newly sealed charter to his holdings and his new title validated and legal, our young cobbler (or should we now say young Lord?) gathered up a few heavy purses of coins into his saddlebags and selected a few choice pieces of jewelry from his treasury (much now in the keeping of the reputable town goldsmith and strictly accounted for to the pence in a ledger book), he then selected his finest horse for the week long ride to the Duke's castle.

He didn't rush his trip and took his time making the journey. He bought a round of refreshment in every village tavern he passed by and regaled the old gaffers with his seemingly endless collections of amusing stories and intrigued the dames of the village with his tongue-in-cheek tales of gossip and scandal from the both the ranks of the mighty to the very lowest, but with amusement not malice towards either. By the time he reached the City of Bartlett near the Duke's castle and checked into its finest inn, advance rumors of his coming were already spreading in the street and gangs of urchins cheered him (and the pennies he tossed to them).

It wasn't long before messengers with dining invitations to the finest households in the city appeared, and before the week was over he had what he had so hoped for — an invitation to dine the following week with the Duke and his family!

By this time, our young former cobbler, now a most promising young lordling, was reckoned to be the kindest hearted and most good natured, handsomest and richest young nobleman of marriageable status in the city or the Duchy — perhaps even the entire kingdom! Our young lad certainly was most of those things, but replied invariably with a laugh that he could think of at least a dozen or so gentlemen that were much more handsome than he was. Oh, how women (and prospective mothers-in-law) love a modest gentleman! This only seemed to make him even more desirable and now he had to politely (but firmly) decline numerous ladies of beauty, achievement and property offering to propose to him!

At last the long awaited evening arrived and our young man rode out to the Duke's great castle where he was welcomed along with a number of other notable guests. Several other young lordlings made no secret of the fact that they were present to bring their own suit for the hand of the Duke and Duchess's reluctant daughter. The former cobbler laughed in good humor and wished each of the would-be suitors' luck saying that he himself had only come for the good wine, fine food and delightful company the Duke's banquet table offered. It came as no surprise that none of those young men held much interest for the young Lady, whose beauty and grace had not in any way been over-valued. Possessing a good head on her shoulders, she recognized the fortune hunters at once for what they were and she was quite plainly resolved to resist their advances.

Our hero enjoyed his meal and made understated but witty conversation as best he might, but took no great pains to draw any attention to himself. Particularly since he had been seated near the end of his table, farthest way from the ducal family central table. He drank sparingly and kept his eyes and ears open and alert, so that he could best judge the currents of his Luck and fortune to await his best opportunity to make a lasting favorable impression, and correctly sensed that it might not occur on this particular evening.

Other young (and not so young) gentlemen did not follow this advice and forced themselves into the Duke's conversations or made embarrassing (and wine induced) declarations of love for his daughter. Needless to say, these lords and gentlemen never received a return initiation, but our young lad was requested to return again to dine the follow night because, as the Duke remarked with a wink, that the conversation seemed to be lighter and more pleasant down near his end of the table.

Returning the following night for dinner, our lad was better seated near the middle of one of the serving tables. Again, he kept his manners in check and his conversation witty and pleasant, and made no demands upon the good Duke's hospitality. Often though he could notice from the corner of his eye the Duke, Duchess or their daughter glancing in his direction, considering him and appraising him in any number of ways, often after some amusing little jape or tale, that thanks to his night with the Brownies (and his exceptionally good memory), he could now endlessly recite. Shortly after the dinner ended, a steward approached him with a personal note from the Duke inviting him to a large formal banquet to be held the following week, at which a great number of important personages would be present — including the Crown Prince William.

Given time to thusly prepare himself, the cobbler acquired a more formal but a bit understated set of robes, suitable for a court function. Ever practical still at heart, he even cobbled his own dress shoes in a fashionable style he hoped would be just right.

At last the big night came, and while other young men arrived 'fashionably late' in order to make a big appearance, or else had arrived much earlier and already had a goblet of two of wine more than was good for them, our hero took pains to arrive exactly on time. Tonight he found that he had been seated near the very top of the table, quite in casual conversation range of the Duke — which he took casual and subtle, but full advantage of. While rarely starting or monopolizing a conversation topic, he took casual pains to invariably finding just the right humorous note to add a bit of mirth to the discussion.

As the laughter at his end of the table grew increasingly louder, at length the Crown Prince, a likeable fun loving lad himself just a bit older than the cobbler, arose from the table and threw down his napkin.

"My Lord Duke, as the conversation and fun at your end of the table seems so much more inviting than the boring old pharts you've stuck me with at this end, I'd be ever so grateful if we could have your Steward switch our seating places!"

The Duke laughed, and readily agreed and in no time at all Prince William was seated next to our cobbler and they soon were trading jokes and japes like longtime friends. The hours sped by like moments and everyone was in good humor, but none more so than our young hero and his new best friend, the Crown Prince of the realm.

"Will some young gentleman stand and entertain us all with a tale of mirth that has never before crossed our ears?" The Duke declared loudly to all, standing at the head of the table, but clearly looking upon the cobbler. Prince William was also eager to volunteer his new friend, but the cobbler gently deferred, saying that since he was but new to the good Duke's company, he should instead go lastly and let others who had more seniority to him go first. This well-spoken and modest request was accepted and the cobbler let all of the other young lordlings have their chances. Most of which were ill-wasted. A few stories were moderately entertaining, but even the cobbler had heard most of the jokes before and none were new to the Duke.

At last came the cobblers turn to tell his story and he did not disappoint. Remembering the comments he had heard from the Chief Brownie, he told the tale he heard about a proud merchant's daughter who believed herself too good for any possible suitor (especially a good hearted young Steward of the local lord who loved her despite her faults). The Steward had his revenge on her at a very fancy banquet when all of the local nobility was present, and so thoroughly embarrassed her that she could never again show her face before high society again. Her banquet chair cushion had had a bladder placed inside that uttered rude noises whenever she adjusted herself on her chair (which seemed to be unusually rickety and near collapse). Hot peppers and spice oils were mixed into her food so that her mouth and tongue were swollen such that she could barely speak in but a slur. Her wine goblet also had a small hole drilled it that spilled as much on her gown as she drank, giving to all the indication that she was a common 'topper' of the rudest sort. When her subtly sabotaged chair finally collapsed under her sprawling her onto the floor, she was then rudely ejected from the hall and crudely thrown into a gutter. Her life in fine society finished, she accepted the Steward's hand and (after several other minor lessons) in time became a good wife to him.

As he suspected, the Duke had never heard this tale before and roared his approval, offering the cobbler his own gem encrusted wine goblet as a reward! Our hero humbly accepted this reward and offered in return a gift of his own.

"My good Duke, I have been feasted well at your table and now you have flattered me with your gift, which I must accept with humble appreciation. But it is also my custom that when offered a gift, I must make at least a token gift to your family in return." With that he took from his pocket a magnificent pair of ruby earrings and offered it to the Duke.

"For your fair daughter, whose hair color I think would well match this trivial token item of my gratitude."

Indeed, the brilliant red hair of the Duke's daughter was a perfect match in coloration, and the young lady accepted this token with a demure smile. The Duchess didn't seem quite as pleased, but she didn't object when the Duke invited our young hero to join the Prince and himself riding after luncheon the following day, which he of course accepted. It is fortunate that the important errand our cobbler performed the following morning had been well prepared in advance, and accordingly took little time to complete leaving him promptly ready for the afternoon's riding and other noble sports with the Duke and the Crown Prince.

Dinner that night at the Duke's table was a much more casual affair with just the Prince and the other family members present, but it was no less lively that night in the Great Hall. Again, the Duchess seemed a little distracted and was not particularly good company. H er daughter on the other hand, quietly displayed some wit and subtle charm of her own and the cobbler was soon utterly enchanted by her. The Chief Brownie had been correct in every detail as the Lady Beth, as he was invited to now casually address her, was indeed the finest possible bride in any of the known kingdoms!

The pleasantness was spoilt not long afterwards when the sudden loud falling of an old shield off of the wall to the stone floor spurred the Duchess to action. Summoning the Chief Steward and her Head Housekeeper, she loudly berated them for the continuing deterioration of everything in the castle. The rust on every suit of armor that defied every footman's attempt to clean, the dirt and dust everywhere (and even a mention of the always dirty linen everyplace she looked — see swore that she could see a small child's muddy footprints right here and now on the fine linen on the dining table!)

The cobbler, prepared for this moment, arose and calmly soothed the irritated Duchess.

"My good Duchess, spare not another moments thought for this most unhappy incident. If there are problems to be solved then let me lend my assistance, and do you this small favor of handling this trivial matter to your fullest satisfaction."

The Duchess was at a loss for words, but at length just nodded her head and left the Great Hall for her own quarters. The cobbler turned to speak to the Duke, who seemed nearly as confused.

"With your permission my Lord, I beg your leave to absent myself from your table and speak, if I could, freely with your good Steward and Housekeeper, and if I could give your domestic staff a few simple instructions I'm sure we could have everything right as rain by tomorrow morning."

The Duke willingly gave his full consent and soon the Steward had the entire household staff assembled and every manservant, woman and child in the castle had their simple but precise orders and left at once to carry them out.

The old Steward was at heart a country boy and without a word he had guessed our cunning cobbler's plan, and the two of them together shared a jug of wine in the pantry into the early hours of the morning while trading tales of good hearty country life.

Needless to say, when the Duchess arose out of bed that morning not one single spec of dust could be found in the entire castle. All of the linens smelt clean and fresh, and there was not a single mite of rust on any of the decorative swords or armor in the Great Hall! Her gratitude was profound and unceasing, and for the first time in several months her face wore a smile, nor from that day onwards did a frown hardly ever appear. She was not a fussy woman, did she did dearly enjoy a clean smoothly running household for her husband.

No one (except for the wise old Steward) suspected that the cobbler had purchased back for the castle the famed prize-winning cow 'Bessi' that produced the extra rich cream that the Chief Brownie was so fond of, and that the servants had placed bowls of it all over the castle and grounds where Brownie was sure to swiftly find it. His pride and anger appeased, the Brownie was sure to use all of his considerable magic to swiftly put the household back into its original well-ordered condition.

In happy appreciation, the Duchess offered the lad a magnificent silver and emerald broach taken from her own cloak. Ever one to offer a gift in return, he presented her with a superb ruby necklace that was fit to grace the throat of any queen, for her approval for it to be presented to her daughter. She happily assented and beamed with joy as her daughter was delighted by the gift and even asked that he fasten the clasp for her at the back of her neck (it was a very delightful view — entire sonnets could and would be written about that graceful neck).

If our cobbler had right then and there outright asked for their daughter's hand in marriage, I'm sure the Duke and Duchess would have given their blessing instantly, but our hero was noble and wanted to fulfill that final unspoken condition — gaining the Lady Beth's true love. Fortunately, he had a fairly good idea of just how to accomplish this.

Inviting the fair Lady to take a ride with him down the river, she accepted at once (she was already feeling extremely fond of him already and hadn't slept a wink all night or eaten breakfast as her stomach seemed all full of butterflies and was wondering if this was really Love — she had never felt it before but had heard it described many times before by her lady attendants).

Resting for a time and enjoying the idle conversation by a small cool stream waterfall that lead to the river, the cobble began his final plan.

"Fair Lady Beth, it pains me so to see you so unhappy and in pain. In my all too short time with you I've managed to bring mirth to your father, and restored your mother's good order to the household. Today, what can I do to relieve your own pain?"

The good Lady was loathe to complain, but at length he coaxed from her the admission that her feet were always now in dreadful pain, and that nearly every step she took was sheer agony. Doctors, being the generally incompetent lot that they were in those days (and mostly still are) had prescribed countless cures, medicines and ointments — none of which did any good at all (and some that probably even made her health worse)!

Coaxing her to take her riding boots off, he could plainly see that the old cobbler, who had made all new boots, shoes and slippers for her many months ago, had done an exceptionally poor job. Everything pinched, bit or rubbed tightly at all of the wrong spots. Her delicate foot bones had been slightly mashed out of position and there was considerable swelling. First he bade her to cool them in the stream to reduce the swelling, and this did ease her suffering considerably until she became chilled and her teeth started to chatter. Then he carefully dried off her feet with a soft towel and applied the healing poultice that he heard the lazy Brownie Rollo speak of.

It had taken some time to find the right 'wise women' and herbalists that knew of the plants and herbs that the poor miserable Brownie Rollo had spoken of, but they had all eventually been gathered and carefully prepared. He gently massaged the ointment into her feet, applying slow but gentle pressure, soothing the tender delicate flesh and gently coaxing all of the tiny delicate feminine foot bones back to their proper positions. This wouldn't be an instant cure, but the pain should now be only a discomfort that would decrease rapidly every day until all of the bruises had healed.

He threw her old crippling boots away and opening his saddlebag he presented her with a wrapped gift box. Opening it, she was delighted to find a lovely pair of silk with embroidered ruby gemstones slippers, which she allowed him to place onto her feet — after he had delicately kissed each delightful foot. Red really was her best color!

The slipper fit perfectly — the cobbler was after all a very good judge of women's shoe sizes (and he had backup pairs in a half-size larger and smaller in his pack, if the first had not been utterly perfect). He followed up the gift of the slippers with his offer of a ruby ring to her, in troth. This was no ordinary gemstone ring — it was undoubtedly the finest jewel in the entire treasure trove collection, and with the offer of this ring he in fact was offering his entire heart to her.

The Lady Beth knew then that what she felt for this young man was indeed true love and as she moved over to chastely kiss him on the cheek tenderly, she slightly missed however, and began a kiss on his mouth that probably would have lasted until long after darkness if one of her attendants had not come looking for them sometime later to summon them for dinner.

Needless to say, the Lady Beth rose up from the dinner table and announced to her overjoyed parents that the worthy young lord seated next to her would indeed be her chosen husband. The date for the forthcoming nuptials was arranged as soon as was decently possible and on that happy day the Crown Prince himself was the Best Man and provided many generous gifts to the happy couple, who remained his best friends and trusted advisors for the full length of his long life after he became King a few years later. Lady Beth, later the Duchess after the death of her father, lived a long and happy life with her husband, the former cobbler, who did before their wedding night did privately admit his humble past — which of course was of no importance or significance to her, and was never again mentioned, as it had no bearing whatsoever upon his goodness as a husband, and his later kindness to their many children. Their eldest daughter in fact, later became the wife of the King's eldest son, but that is another story.