The Automaton
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Automaton</strong> ~ David Wheldon ~ 6/11/2011<br />
though. “You have to take what you can,” he had said. “You seem to go where you<br />
are sent.” But then I can think of worse people than Mrs Lisle from whom to take<br />
orders.<br />
It was during a somewhat prolonged fallow season that the <strong>Automaton</strong> arrived,<br />
on the back doorstep, as it were. I was present in the cobbled mews at the back of the<br />
theatre, returning from an errand one misty afternoon, when the cart, drawn by an<br />
ancient cob, drew up — it appeared out of the river-mist looking for all the world like<br />
a tumbrel with a shrouded figure in it, apparently seated. I later learned that the<br />
<strong>Automaton</strong> had arrived at the dock on the morning’s tide, part of the manifest of the SS<br />
Foxglove, a steam coaster. Had it not been for my errand I would undoubtedly have<br />
gone to the dock to meet the Foxglove; she is a handsome vessel, and I admire the way<br />
she is handled in a dock-entrance known for its difficulty.<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Automaton</strong> was covered in dun, dark sheeting, but I could make out the<br />
shape of a head, and then a rather narrow pair of shoulders: also, below the lower edge<br />
of the sheeting, dark-green satin or watered silk. <strong>The</strong> tumbrel drew up at the stagedoor.<br />
My offer to hold the horse was accepted. I was fascinated by the shrouded<br />
shape. What would it be like? My imagination took full rein. And then the <strong>Automaton</strong><br />
was laboriously lifted from the cart. A pole was slid either side of the figure, and two<br />
labourers took the poles afore and aft. And so the <strong>Automaton</strong> was carried, Sedan-chair<br />
style, blind as fortune beneath its sheeting, into the darkness of the Comedy.<br />
Advertisements had been placed in the papers, and sensational bills posted<br />
around the town.<br />
I stood at the side of the stage (quite literally in the wings), fascinated by the<br />
sheeted figure.<br />
‘Well, Madame! You are almost ready to take a look at your new surroundings!’<br />
cried the impresario, removing the sheeting with a flourish.<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Automaton</strong> was a slim waxwork woman in green seated at a desk. Her head<br />
was covered with a close-fitting calico slip which reached down to her shoulders.<br />
‘My boy!’ shouted the impresario; he had seen me — his sight must have been<br />
very sharp. ‘Come here! Make haste!’<br />
I walked slowly from the wings, crossed the stage and jumped down into the<br />
orchestra pit. I climbed up into the auditorium.<br />
‘What is your name, my boy?’<br />
‘William Bradney, sir.’<br />
‘Well, Master Bradney, to you shall fall the honour of uncovering the lady.’ He<br />
indicated the calico slip with a hand.<br />
I lifted the hem of the slip: the creature beneath my hands gave a long but gentle<br />
sigh. Her head was warm and there was a sensation of life.<br />
Holding the empty calico tube in my hands I looked at her.<br />
‘Thank you, Master Bradney. <strong>The</strong> lady impresses you. And fascinates you with<br />
her qualities. And why should she not?’ He put a hand on the <strong>Automaton</strong>’s shoulder.<br />
He spoke softly. ‘Well, Madame. Regard your new environment! See what you have<br />
come down to!’ His voice was too low to find an echo in the empty auditorium.<br />
‘Oh! Your hair! You need a hand-maid to brush it!’ said the impresario in his soft<br />
voice. ‘But please, Madame, make do with me.’ He ran a comb mockingly through her<br />
luxurious tresses of long, black hair and held up a mirror before her sightless face.<br />
I stood before her, watching her in awe. Of what was she capable?<br />
And so people came to see the mysterious <strong>Automaton</strong>. Now, as a spectacle, the<br />
<strong>Automaton</strong> could only have been expected to be truly successful in a major city. <strong>The</strong><br />
4