Anonymous - The Secret Chronicles of Henry Dashwood, Vol. 1

My uncle, Sir Robert, is also a musical connoisseur and recently he purchased one of these new-fangled phonographs from the Army and Navy Store, together with a number of wax cylinders. However, though I marvel at the sound of Dame Nellie Melba coming from the giant horn of the machine, to be quite candid, the quality of reproduction is not of the best and the diva sounds as if she is singing inside a large tin can! Nevertheless, the phonograph is a marvellous invention and I am certain that Mr. Edison's brain-child will be improved, until one day we can hear whole symphonies being played in our drawing-rooms.

Be that as it may, at luncheon I gave my apple pie to George in order to rush back to the study as I wanted to wash and brush up and put on my best suit (as instructed by Dr Muttley) and at precisely three minutes to two, I was standing in the front hall looking down the drive for Uncle Robert's carriage. My uncle arrived almost on the dot of two and as the coachman drew the landau to a halt, my uncle opened the door and nimbly jumped out of the vehicle. He walked up the steps and came into the hall and shook hands with the headmaster who had rolled up to stand next to me. 'Thank you again for letting Henry come with me, I'll return him to you in good time as arranged,' said Uncle Robert cordially as Dr Muttley escorted us to the landau. 'Goodbye, gentlemen, I look forward to hearing all about the concert tomorrow morning,' called the headmaster. I waved back to him as the driver shook the reins and the horses clip-clopped over the gravel drive. I settled back in my seat and exchanged the usual pleasantries with Uncle Robert, but then our conversation took a surprising turn. 'Henry, my dear chap. I'm especially pleased that you have been able to come with me to Laversham Hall this afternoon,' said my uncle, looking at his pocket watch. 'For this gives me the chance to have a few private words with you.' I waited for him to explain further but he fell silent. I looked at Uncle Robert enquiringly and said: 'By all means, sir, what is it you wanted to say to me?' But Uncle Robert remained silent and I noticed that he did not look in the pink of condition. 'Uncle, are you feeling well? Forgive me saying so, but you look somewhat tired.' I enquired. He roused himself and muttered: 'I am, my boy, quite damnably tired and I'll tell you why. Do you remember Maria, that buxom young scullery maid your aunt engaged earlier this year?' 'Y-e-s-s, I think so,' I replied carefully, although of course only a few days ago I had recounted to Johnny and George how, on my last visit to Bacon Lodge, I had heard two of the housemaids gossiping about how Maria had earned a gold sovereign from my uncle for tossing him off. 'H'mph, I thought you might, young Henry,' said Uncle Robert and then he sighed and continued: 'Gad, she's a wanton little minx and, knowing as I do that you're a chip off the old block, I wondered whether you had poked her on your last visit to Bacon Lodge. I looked at him in slack-jawed amazement – was I dreaming or did this coarse comment really come from the lips of my esteemed uncle, the highly respected patron of the arts and close friend of such eminent personages as the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Dunton Green, Lord and Lady Laversham and even His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales? 'Come, come, Henry, there is no need to beat about the bush,' he said impatiently. 'I know you are no longer ignorant of these matters. Mrs. Mutkin informed me how she discovered you in my library engrossed in reading Mustapha Pharte's fascinating book on Eastern sexual practices. So I repeat, did you fuck Maria?'

'No, Uncle, I did not,' I stammered, not daring to admit I would very much have liked to. Uncle Robert grunted: 'You would have enjoyed the experience, my lad, she has the most enchanting little pussey which is always eager to welcome my old todger and that's why I'm so damnably tired. Young Maria is quite insatiable. For the last week or so, I've spent at least three hours a day lucking her until I've reached a point of total exhaustion.' He let out a heavy sigh and went on: 'Marriage is an excellent and most proper institution and I trust that when the time comes, you will have as satisfying and as comfortable a relationship as that granted to me with your aunt. However, when one's spouse loses interest in nuptial relations, it is a great temptation to look elsewhere for the pleasures of the flesh.' Uncle Robert looked hard at me and then he leaned forward and said: 'Now, Henry, the reason I am talking of these matters is simply this – several of the distinguished guests at this afternoon's concert have also succumbed to the lure of forbidden fruit, including an illustrious royal gentleman at the very highest level of Society. Now, being a smart lad, you have perhaps already guessed to whom I am referring.' It was not difficult for me to know whom he meant, for the bedroom antics of the heir to the throne are regularly documented in the pages of scurrilous French publications as well as in The Oyster and other homegrown journals of voluptuous reading. “The Prince of Wales, Uncle Robert?' I answered brightly and he put a finger to his lips as he nodded.

'Correct, my boy, and as Lady Laversham has had to hasten away to be at the bedside of a sick relative, Lord Charles has taken the opportunity to arrange a further entertainment after the concert for a selected number of his guests. I am one and, now that you have reached the age of sixteen, I thought it appropriate that you too should be invited to participate in the fun. It's about the right time that you discovered the joys of, to use the common vernacular, dipping your wick. 'However, it is far from being a compulsory command, and it will be no trouble to arrange transport for you if you would prefer to go back to school immediately after Prince Kochanski has finished his performance. Either way, though, you must treat this matter as strictly confidential,' I hastened to assure him that I would be delighted to take part in whatever bacchanalian delights had been planned and felt it beholden on me to confess that I was no stranger to such pleasures. 'This will not be my first fuck, Uncle Robert. I cannot disclose the name of my partner but I have already been introduced to the joys of love-making by a most kind and considerate partner.' 'Have you, begad? Well, the best of luck to you. And I applaud your reticence in not naming your amorata. Only cads sully a lady's reputation by telling tales in this manner. I am pleased though that you have gone through your rite of passage unscarred. First love can be a most magnificent business – or a disastrous fiasco and you have been fortunate in having a lover who was able to guide you through the experience. 'Most people would say that strict regulations must be upheld with regard to sexual relations or the very fabric of society will fall apart. I disagree and say that if we eased the rigid control of sexual information and encouraged a freer, more enlightened attitude to fucking, there would be far less social tensions in the country – but that's another issue and as those to whom I propound my ideas class me as a dangerous radical, simply because I do not believe in any rules except those of nature, we had best talk of other matters and pursue that particular subject when you are older and more experienced in such affairs.' He sat back and abruptly changed the subject. 'How is your postage stamp collection coming along, Henry? Philately can be a financially rewarding hobby these days. I purchased an 1854 Indian four rupee stamp with the Queen's head printed upside down from Messrs Stanley Gibbons for fifty pounds six years ago. Your aunt upbraided me for my extravagance but only last week I sold it back to them for three times that amount!'

Uncle Robert looked at me with satisfaction as I congratulated him on his coup though I did not feel it impolite to add: 'Unfortunately, I do not have any capital to speculate on stamps, although one of the chaps at school told me that the most valuable stamp in my album, the fourpenny 1861 Cape of Good Hope, is now worth at least sixty pounds.' 'Oh yes, and I would judge that to be a conservative estimate even for a used copy,' remarked my uncle. 'My old friend Sir Ronald Dunn, who you will meet this afternoon, recently paid three hundred and twenty-five pounds for an unused copy.'