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    The Enchanted Castle
    The Enchanted Castle
    The Enchanted Castle
    Ebook251 pages4 hours

    The Enchanted Castle

    By Edith Nesbit

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    An invisible princess, a magic ring, and more adventures than you could dream of. This is what Gerald, Kathleen and Jimmy find when they stumble upon a mysterious castle. At first it all appears to be a lark. But the children soon discover they need all their bravery and ingenuity to contend with the castle's supernatural forces
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAB Books
    Release dateMar 20, 2018
    ISBN9782291006688
    Author

    Edith Nesbit

    Edith Nesbit (1858-1924) was an English writer of children’s literature. Born in Kennington, Nesbit was raised by her mother following the death of her father—a prominent chemist—when she was only four years old. Due to her sister Mary’s struggle with tuberculosis, the family travelled throughout England, France, Spain, and Germany for years. After Mary passed, Edith and her mother returned to England for good, eventually settling in London where, at eighteen, Edith met her future husband, a bank clerk named Hubert Bland. The two—who became prominent socialists and were founding members of the Fabian Society—had a famously difficult marriage, and both had numerous affairs. Nesbit began her career as a poet, eventually turning to children’s literature and publishing around forty novels, story collections, and picture books. A contemporary of such figures of Lewis Carroll and Kenneth Grahame, Nesbit was notable as a writer who pioneered the children’s adventure story in fiction. Among her most popular works are The Railway Children (1906) and The Story of the Amulet (1906), the former of which was adapted into a 1970 film, and the latter of which served as a profound influence on C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series. A friend and mentor to George Bernard Shaw and H.G. Wells, Nesbit’s work has inspired and entertained generations of children and adults, including such authors as J.K. Rowling, Noël Coward, and P.L. Travers.

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    Reviews for The Enchanted Castle

    4/5

    314 ratings14 reviews

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    • 5/5
      What a fun book! Surprising magic. Find an enchanted castle and a sleeping princess. Oops, not, it's not enchanted and she's not a princess. A magic room of jewels? A ring that makes you invisible? Just kidding. Oops -- NOT kidding! Ugly-Wugglies for a pretend audience? Oops, not so pretend. Those ugly-wugglies were just plain creepy. An unexpected delight.
    • 5/5
      In which the castle turns out to be enchanted in a most unexpected way. A wholly enjoyable Edwardian delight.
    • 4/5
      What impressed me the most is Nesbit's writing style.A close second is the old-fashioned fairytale charm of the book.The characters are wonderful, and so are their adventures.With magic rings, non-living alive creatures, kindly marble gods and overly elongated young girls, it capture the readers without falling down the cliff of far-fetchyness.The theme of fantasy meets reality works extremely well and keeps the story truthful and alive.The perfect classic for a rainy day's worth of reading.
    • 4/5
      Lovely story, very much an old-fashioned fairytale. You can definitely see how her style influenced C.S. Lewis.
    • 4/5
      I'm surprised this "classic" isn't more well-known. The story is quite good, with many surprising twists, wonders, and genuine creepiness. It reminds of some very old fairy tales, in the way magic plays by rules that it takes a long time to understand and it's not always clear what's happeneing and if it's good or bad. Recommended.
    • 5/5
      A wonderfully written story of magic and Englishness--Nesbit at her strongest--brilliantly read by Johanna Ward.
    • 4/5
      An interestingly quirky story - like many Nesbits, a mix of fantasy and utter down-to-earth-ness. Shall we follow the Princess into the Enchanted Castle? Yes, but I want my tea... It switches, rapidly and repeatedly, from kids playing to magic to deep magic and back, and never loses the thread of the story. The governess and the lord was pretty obvious as soon as we learned about it; the burglars went off in some interesting directions. The mystery of the ring and its changeability is nicely handled - and turns out to be much deeper than a single magical artifact (though I do wonder about the other oddities in the treasure room). Fun to read (well, the kids bickering got annoying at times, but not too bad), an interesting story - and a possibly too simple and rounded-off ending. I enjoyed it, and may reread.
    • 3/5
      When it was good, it was very, very good, and when it was bad.... Well, let's just say reading the line, "You look like a nigger," made me really glad I'd weeded this from my media center. And what was up with the illustration of that little girl sitting at the feet of the naked Greek god? Maybe that was okay a hundred years ago, but let's face it, the gods better get themselves some fig leaves these days. Good parts: I liked the somewhat smarmy older brother's character. Charm, I find, appears to be a lost art among adolescents these days. He could certainly work his way around that French governess. Also, it had been a long, long time since I'd read any Nesbit, and I was expecting something a little more cuddly. This had some SCARY bits. The Ugly-Wuglies totally creeped me out, though I liked the idea of one of them ending up as a London financier.
    • 3/5
      My brother and I were given this about the same time as The Magic City but I did not like it as well.
    • 5/5
      Fantasy of three siblings and a friend who come upon a ring that makes them disappear, or turn into statues, or do other wonderful things. At the heart of the magic is wishing for an enchanted life with all questions answered and a stunning ray of moonlight that makes the world beautiful. There is a horrible scare when a bunch of fake people made of broomsticks and cast off clothing come to life, but the brave resourceful hero of the piece figures out how to get rid of them.

    • 4/5
      A childhood favourite - one of those books that's out of copyright now and freely available, even though I gave my own copy away years ago. It was fun to re-read as an adult: Edith Nesbit's style of writing is still just as wonderful to me now as it was when I was ten. She had a great knack of understanding life through a child's eyes and presenting her story from a child's point of view, while still putting her authorial stamp on the text.
    • 4/5
      Four English children discover the magic of a ring, a castle, true love, and many adventures. How amazing that over 100 years later this story still enchants children and adults alike. The mix of magic with everyday life is brilliant! My children and I enjoyed reading this story that inspired other fabulous authors like C.S. Lewis. We're grateful for Nesbit's creativity that not only kept us spellbound, but also opened the way for many of the modern fantasy books that we love.
    • 4/5
      An interesting kids book with fun interjections by the author about life and how things work. These three siblings find an enchanted castle during their summer holidays and then find a magical ring. While they have fun they also learn about responsibility.It's extrememly dated but it is fun.
    • 1/5
      Words cannot describe how much this book sucked!

    Book preview

    The Enchanted Castle - Edith Nesbit

    The Enchanted Castle

    Edith Nesbit

    Copyright © 2018 by OPU

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.    

    Table of Contents

    The Enchanted Castle

    Edith Nesbit

    Copyright © 2018 by OPU

    About Nesbit:

    About Nesbit:

    She was born in 1858 at 38 Lower Kennington Lane in Kennington, Surrey (now part of Greater London), the daughter of a schoolteacher, John Collis Nesbit, who died in March 1862, before her fourth birthday. Her sister Mary's ill health meant that the family moved around constantly for some years, living variously in Brighton, Buckinghamshire, France (Dieppe, Rouen, Paris, Tours, Poitiers, Angouleme, Bordeaux, Arcachon, Pau, Bagneres de Bigorre, and Dinan in Brittany), Spain and Germany, before settling for three years at Halstead Hall in Halstead in north-west Kent, a location which later inspired The Railway Children. When Nesbit was 17, the family moved again, this time back to London, living variously in South East London at Eltham, Lewisham, Grove Park and Lee. A follower of William Morris, 19-year-old Nesbit met bank clerk Hubert Bland in 1877. Seven months pregnant, she married Bland on 22 April 1880, though she did not immediately live with him, as Bland initially continued to live with his mother. Their marriage was an open one. Bland also continued an affair with Alice Hoatson which produced two children (Rosamund in 1886 and John in 1899), both of whom Nesbit raised as her own. Her own children were Paul Bland (1880-1940), to whom The Railway Children was dedicated; Iris Bland (1881-19??); and Fabian Bland (1885-1900), who died aged 15 after a tonsil operation, and to whom she dedicated Five Children And It and its sequels, as well as The Story of the Treasure Seekers and its sequels. Nesbit and Bland were among the founders of the Fabian Society (a precursor to the Labour Party) in 1884. Their son Fabian was named after the society. They also jointly edited the Society's journal Today; Hoatson was the Society's assistant secretary. Nesbit and Bland also dallied briefly with the Social Democratic Federation, but rejected it as too radical. Nesbit was an active lecturer and prolific writer on socialism during the 1880s. Nesbit also wrote with her husband under the name Fabian Bland, though this activity dwindled as her success as a children's author grew. Nesbit lived from 1899 to 1920 in Well Hall House, Eltham, Kent (now in south-east Greater London). On 20 February 1917, some three years after Bland died, Nesbit married Thomas the Skipper Tucker, a ship's engineer on the Woolwich Ferry. Towards the end of her life she moved to a house called Crowlink in Friston, East Sussex, and later to St Mary's Bay in Romney Marsh, East Kent. Suffering from lung cancer, probably a result of her heavy smoking, she died in 1924 at New Romney, Kent, and was buried in the churchyard of St Mary in the Marsh. Source: Wikipedia

    To Margaret Ostler with love from E. Nesbit

    Peggy, you came from the heath and moor, And you brought their airs through my open door; You brought the blossom of youth to blow In the Latin Quarter of Soho. For the sake of that magic I send you here A tale of enchantments, Peggy dear, A bit of my work, and a bit of my heart… The bit that you left when we had to part.

    Royalty Chambers, Soho, W. 25 September 1907

    There were three of them Jerry, Jimmy, and Kathleen. Of course, Jerry's name was Gerald, and not Jeremiah, whatever you may think; and Jimmy's name was James; and Kathleen was never called by her name at all, but Cathy, or Catty, or Puss Cat, when her brothers were pleased with her, and Scratch Cat when they were not pleased. And they were at school in a little town in the West of England the boys at one school, of course, and the girl at another, because the sensible habit of having boys and girls at the same school is not yet as common as I hope it will be some day. They used to see each other on Saturdays and Sundays at the house of a kind maiden lady; but it was one of those houses where it is impossible to play. You know the kind of house, don't you? There is a sort of a something about that kind of house that makes you hardly able even to talk to each other when you are left alone, and playing seems unnatural and affected. So they looked forward to the holidays, when they should all go home and be together all day long, in a house where playing was natural and conversation possible, and where the Hampshire forests and fields were full of interesting things to do and see. Their Cousin Betty was to be there too, and there were plans. Betty's school broke up before theirs, and so she got to the Hampshire home first, and the moment she got there she began to have measles, so that my three couldn't go home at all. You may imagine their feelings. The thought of seven weeks at Miss Hervey's was not to be borne, and all three wrote home and said so. This astonished their parents very much, because they had always thought it was so nice for the children to have dear Miss Hervey's to go to. However, they were "jolly decent about it , as Jerry said, and after a lot of letters and telegrams, it was arranged that the boys should go and stay at Kathleen's school, where there were now no girls left and no mistresses except the French one.

    It'll be better than being at Miss Hervey's, said Kathleen, when the boys came round to ask Mademoiselle when it would be convenient for them to come; and, besides, our school's not half so ugly as yours. We do have tablecloths on the tables and curtains at the windows, and yours is all deal boards, and desks, and inkiness.

    When they had gone to pack their boxes Kathleen made all the rooms as pretty as she could with flowers in jam jars marigolds chiefly, because there was nothing much else in the back garden. There were geraniums in the front garden, and calceolarias and lobelias; of course, the children were not allowed to pick these.

    We ought to have some sort of play to keep us going through the holidays, said Kathleen, when tea was over, and she had unpacked and arranged the boys clothes in the painted chests of drawers, feeling very grown-up and careful as she neatly laid the different sorts of clothes in tidy little heaps in the drawers. Suppose we write a book.

    You couldn't, said Jimmy.

    I didn't mean me, of course, said Kathleen, a little injured; I meant us.

    Too much fag, said Gerald briefly.

    If we wrote a book, Kathleen persisted, about what the insides of schools really are like, people would read it and say how clever we were.

    More likely expel us, said Gerald. No; we'll have an out-of-doors game bandits, or something like that. It wouldn't be bad if we could get a cave and keep stores in it, and have our meals there.

    There aren't any caves, said Jimmy, who was fond of contradicting everyone. And, besides, your precious Mamselle won't let us go out alone, as likely as not.

    Oh, we'll see about that, said Gerald. I'll go and talk to her like a father.

    Like that? Kathleen pointed the thumb of scorn at him, and he looked in the glass.

    To brush his hair and his clothes and to wash his face and hands was to our hero but the work of a moment, said Gerald, and went to suit the action to the word.

    It was a very sleek boy, brown and thin and interesting-looking, that knocked at the door of the parlour where Mademoiselle sat reading a yellow-covered book and wishing vain wishes. Gerald could always make himself look interesting at a moment's notice, a very useful accomplishment in dealing with strange grown-ups. It was done by opening his grey eyes rather wide, allowing the corners of his mouth to droop, and assuming a gentle, pleading expression, resembling that of the late little Lord Fauntleroy who must, by the way, be quite old now, and an awful prig.

    Entrez! said Mademoiselle, in shrill French accents. So he entered.

    Eh bien? she said rather impatiently.

    I hope I am not disturbing you, said Gerald, in whose mouth, it seemed, butter would not have melted.

    But no, she said, somewhat softened. What is it that you desire?

    I thought I ought to come and say how do you do, said Gerald, because of you being the lady of the house.

    He held out the newly-washed hand, still damp and red. She took it.

    You are a very polite little boy, she said.

    Not at all, said Gerald, more polite than ever. I am so sorry for you. It must be dreadful to have us to look after in the holidays.

    But not at all, said Mademoiselle in her turn. I am sure you will be very good childrens.

    Gerald's look assured her that he and the others would be as near angels as children could be without ceasing to be human.We'll try, he said earnestly.

    Can one do anything for you? asked the French governess kindly.

    Oh, no, thank you, said Gerald. We don't want to give you any trouble at all. And I was thinking it would be less trouble for you if we were to go out into the woods all day tomorrow and take our dinner with us something cold, you know so as not to be a trouble to the cook.

    You are very considerate, said Mademoiselle coldly. Then Gerald's eyes smiled; they had a trick of doing this when his lips were quite serious. Mademoiselle caught the twinkle, and she laughed and Gerald laughed too.

    Little deceiver! she said. Why not say at once you want to be free of surveillance, how you say overwatching without pretending it is me you wish to please?

    You have to be careful with grown-ups, said Gerald, but it isn't all pretence either. We don't want to trouble you and we don't want you to

    To trouble you. Eh bien! Your parents, they permit these days at woods?

    Oh, yes, said Gerald truthfully.

    Then I will not be more a dragon than the parents. I will forewarn the cook. Are you content?

    Rather! said Gerald. Mademoiselle, you are a dear.

    A deer? she repeated a stag?

    No, a a cherie, said Gerald a regular A1 cherie. And you sha'n't repent it. Is there anything we can do for you wind your wool, or find your spectacles, or ?

    He thinks me a grandmother! said Mademoiselle, laughing more than ever. Go then, and be not more naughty than you must.

    Well, what luck? the others asked.

    It's all right, said Gerald indifferently. I told you it would be. The ingenuous youth won the regard of the foreign governess, who in her youth had been the beauty of her humble village.

    I don't believe she ever was. She's too stern, said Kathleen.

    Ah! said Gerald, that's only because you don't know how to manage her. She wasn't stern with me.

    I say, what a humbug you are though, aren't you?" said Jimmy.

    No, I'm a dip what's-its-name? Something like an ambassador. Dipsoplomatist that's what I am. Anyhow, we've got our day, and if we don't find a cave in it my name's not Jack Robinson.

    Mademoiselle, less stern than Kathleen had ever seen her, presided at supper, which was bread and treacle spread several hours before, and now harder and drier than any other food you can think of. Gerald was very polite in handing her butter and cheese, and pressing her to taste the bread and treacle.

    Bah! it is like sand in the mouth of a dryness! Is it possible this pleases you?

    No, said Gerald, it is not possible, but it is not polite for boys to make remarks about their food!

    She laughed, but there was no more dried bread and treacle for supper after that.

    How do you do it? Kathleen whispered admiringly as they said good night.

    Oh, it's quite easy when you've once got a grownup to see what you're after. You'll see, I shall drive her with a rein of darning cotton after this.

    Next morning Gerald got up early and gathered a little bunch of pink carnations from a plant which he found hidden among the marigolds. He tied it up with black cotton and laid it on Mademoiselle's plate. She smiled and looked quite handsome as she stuck the flowers in her belt.

    Do you think it's quite decent, Jimmy asked later sort of bribing people to let you do as you like with flowers and things and passing them the salt?

    It's not that, said Kathleen suddenly. I know what Gerald means, only I never think of the things in time myself. You see, if you want grown-ups to be nice to you the least you can do is to be nice to them and think of little things to please them. I never think of any myself. Jerry does; that's why all the old ladies like him. It's not bribery. It's a sort of honesty like paying for things.

    Well, anyway, said Jimmy, putting away the moral question, we've got a ripping day for the woods.

    They had.

    The wide High Street, even at the busy morning hour almost as quiet as a dream-street, lay bathed in sunshine; the leaves shone fresh from last night's rain, but the road was dry, and in the sunshine the very dust of it sparkled like diamonds. The beautiful old houses, standing stout and strong, looked as though they were basking in the sunshine and enjoying it.

    But are there any woods? asked Kathleen as they passed the market-place.

    It doesn't much matter about woods, said Gerald dreamily, we're sure to find something. One of the chaps told me his father said when he was a boy there used to be a little cave under the bank in a lane near the Salisbury Road; but he said there was an enchanted castle there too, so perhaps the cave isn't true either. If we were to get horns, said Kathleen, and to blow them very hard all the way, we might find a magic castle.

    If you've got the money to throw away on horns… said Jimmy contemptuously.

    Well, I have, as it happens, so there! said Kathleen. And the horns were bought in a tiny shop with a bulging window full of a tangle of toys and sweets and cucumbers and sour apples.

    And the quiet square at the end of the town where the church is, and the houses of the most respectable people, echoed to the sound of horns blown long and loud. But none of the houses turned into enchanted castles. Away they went along the Salisbury Road, which was very hot and dusty, so they agreed to drink one of the bottles of ginger-beer.

    We might as well carry the ginger-beer inside us as inside the bottle, said Jimmy, "and we can hide the bottle and call for it as we come back.

    Presently they came to a place where the road, as Gerald said, went two ways at once.

    That looks like adventures, said Kathleen; and they took the right-hand road, and the next time they took a turning it was a left-hand one, so as to be quite fair, Jimmy said, and then a right-hand one and then a left, and so on, till they were completely lost.

    Completely, said Kathleen; how jolly!

    And now trees arched overhead, and the banks of the road were high and bushy. The adventurers had long since ceased to blow their horns. It was too tiring to go on doing that, when there was no one to be annoyed by it.

    Oh, kriky! observed Jimmy suddenly, let's sit down a bit and have some of our dinner. We might call it lunch, you know, he added persuasively.

    So they sat down in the hedge and ate the ripe red gooseberries that were to have been their dessert.

    And as they sat and rested and wished that their boots did not feel so full of feet, Gerald leaned back against the bushes, and the bushes gave way so that he almost fell over backward. Something had yielded to the pressure of his back, and there was the sound of something heavy that fell.

    Oh, Jimminy! he remarked, recovering himself suddenly; there's something hollow in there the stone I was leaning against simply went!

    I wish it was a cave, said Jimmy; but of course it isn't.

    If we blow the horns perhaps it will be, said Kathleen, and hastily blew her own.

    Gerald reached his hand through the bushes. I can't feel anything but air, he said; it's just a hole full of emptiness. The other two pulled back the bushes. There certainly was a hole in the bank. I'm going to go in," observed Gerald.

    Oh, don't! said his sister. I wish you wouldn't. Suppose there were snakes!

    Not likely, said Gerald, but he leaned forward and struck a match. It is a cave! he cried, and put his knee on the mossy stone he had been sitting on, scrambled over it, and disappeared.

    A breathless pause followed.

    You all right? asked Jimmy.

    Yes; come on. You'd better come feet first there's a bit of a drop.

    I'll go next, said Kathleen, and went feet first, as advised. The feet waved wildly in the air.

    Look out! said Gerald in the dark; you'll have my eye out. Put your feet down, girl, not up. It's no use trying to fly here there's no room.

    He helped her by pulling her feet forcibly down and then lifting her under the arms. She felt rustling dry leaves under her boots, and stood ready to receive Jimmy, who came in head first, like one diving into an unknown sea.

    It is a cave, said Kathleen.

    The young explorers, explained Gerald, blocking up the hole of entrance with his shoulders, dazzled at first by the darkness of the cave, could see nothing.

    Darkness doesn't dazzle, said Jimmy.

    I wish we'd got a candle, said Kathleen.

    Yes, it does, Gerald contradicted "could see nothing. But their dauntless leader, whose eyes had grown used to the dark while the clumsy forms of the others were bunging up the entrance, had made a discovery.

    Oh, what! Both the others were used to Gerald's way of telling a story while he acted it, but they did sometimes wish that he didn't talk quite so long and so like a book in moments of excitement.

    He did not reveal the dread secret to his faithful followers till one and all had given him their word of honour to be calm.

    We'll be calm all right, said Jimmy impatiently.Well, then, said Gerald, ceasing suddenly to be a book and becoming a boy, there's a light over there look behind you!

    They looked. And there was. A faint greyness on the brown walls of the cave, and a brighter greyness cut off sharply by a dark line, showed that round a turning or angle of the cave there was daylight.

    Attention! said Gerald; at least, that was what he meant, though what he said was Shun! as becomes the son of a soldier. The others mechanically obeyed.

    You will remain at attention till I give the word Slow march!' on which you will advance cautiously in open order, following your hero leader, taking care not to tread on the dead and wounded."

    I wish you wouldn't! said Kathleen.

    There aren't any, said Jimmy, feeling for her hand in the dark; he only means, take care not to tumble over stones and things

    Here he found her hand, and she screamed.

    It's only me, said Jimmy. I thought you'd like me to hold it. But you're just like a girl.

    Their eyes had now begun to get accustomed to the darkness, and all could see that they were in a rough stone

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