A FRAGMENT OF THE HISTORY OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS PERSONAGE, JOHN BULL, Eſq
Price TWO SHILLINGS and SIXPENE.
A FRAGMENT OF THE HISTORY OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS PERSONAGE JOHN BULL, Eſq COMPILED BY THE CELEBRATED HISTORIAN SIR HUMPHRY POLESWORTH. LATELY DISCOVERED IN THE REPAIRS OF GRUB-HATCH, THE ANCIENT SEAT OF THE FAMILY OF THE POLESWORTHS; NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT, By PEREGRINE PINFOLD, of Grub-Hatch, Eſq
LONDON. Printed for the EDITOR, By T. WILKINS, No. 45, Cow Lane, Snow Hill. And Sold by Mr DEBRETT, oppoſite Burlington-houſe, Piccadilly; Mr BEW, Pater-no [...]er-Row; Mr KEAES⯑LEY, Fleet [...]treet, and at all the Pamphlet Shops, at the Royal Exchange.
CIRCUMSTANCES, which of them⯑ſelves might appear trivial and inſig⯑nificant, become highly intereſting, when they are connected with, or are explana⯑tory of, great and important events. And ſo great and important do I conſider the diſcovery of this precious fragment of hiſ⯑tory, which I now give to the public, that I am perſuaded, I need offer no apo⯑logy, for minutely relating the manner in which it ſo accidentally and ſo happily fell into my hands.
My father having having purſued the profeſſion of a pin-maker, with great ſuc⯑ceſs, acquired a very handſome fortune, with which he purchaſed Grub-Hatch, the [vi] ancient ſeat of the family of the Poleſworths. At his death I ſucceeded to that eſtate, and wiſhing to live as became a perſon of my rank and fortune, I determined like other young gentlemen, to pull to pieces, mo⯑derniſe and adorn, ſo commodious, but ſo antiquated a houſe.
Unluckily I was not acquainted with any faſhionable architect, and was deter⯑mined not to be ſo vulgar as to employ a city ſurveyor. I concluded therefore, that my beſt way was to conſult my Cook Maid upon this occaſion: who I had always found to be a very ſhrewd ſenſible woman, and who beſides had a damned good taſte of her own. Accordingly having men⯑tioned the ſubject to her one day, ſhe told me, That ſhe had formerly lived with a family in Mary-le-bone, and that in one of the ſtreets there, ſhe remembered to have ſeen a very taſty houſe, built on a new principle, by a very famous and fa⯑ſhionable Architector, whoſe name ſhe had forgot, but ſhe remembered to have of⯑ten admired his houſe as being uncom⯑monly [vii] crips and nic't and not in the leaſt like a dwelling houſe, for it looked for all the world like a chapel. From this account, which pleaſed me, I determined to enquire after this great artiſt, and hav⯑ing gone on purpoſe to look at his houſe, I ſaw it anſwered preciſely to my cook maid's deſcription. I next went to look at an addition by him made to a great man's houſe adjoining to the river, and from the ſkill and dexterity with which I obſerved the artiſt had there avoided all regularity, proportion, taſte and elegance, I concluded he muſt have a perfect knowledge of his art, to enable him to deviate from all its rules and all its beauties, with ſuch inge⯑nuity and correctneſs. I did not therefore hezitate a moment in determining that this was the proper perſon for me to em⯑ploy.
Accordingly he came to my houſe and gave me a monſtruous beautiful deſign for taking away all my old towers, turrets and battlements, and every thing elſe which gavemy houſe an appearance of antiquity [viii] or of old faſhioned magnificence, and in their ſtead, he ſubſtituted venetian and palladian windows, balluſtrades and pi⯑laſters, and in ſhort, every thing that is handſome, modern and toniſh. I was per⯑fectly charmed with all this when an ac⯑cident happened, which had nearly made me frantic, and curſe my architect for an illiterate booby, who deſerved to be buried in one of his deepeſt foundations.
I am ſure the public will forgive my rage, when I relate that one day, my workmen in pulling down part of a round tower, came to a ſmall concealed cloſet in the wall, in which was lodged, a very old iron cheſt, with a ruſty padlock up⯑on it.
They immediately concluded, they had found a treaſure, and propoſed to take an oath of ſecrecy to each other reſpecting the contents—but one of them cried out, ‘"Damn it, let us firſt ſee if there is any thing in the cheſt worth ſwearing about [ix] —let us open him and examine his belly."’ This they did by ſtriking off the padlock, when upon lifting up the lid—lo, there was nothing to be found but a parcel of old muſty papers in manuſcript, much decayed from age, very damp, and almoſt periſhed for want of air. At this critical moment, my architect entering the tower, enquired of the workmen what they were about. They being extremely diſap⯑pointed at neither finding gold nor ſilver, told him they had juſt diſcovered a parcel of old dirty papers, not worth a t—d. Let me ſee them, ſays he, and then turning over ſome leaves, he reads on the title page, ‘"The hiſtory of John Bull,"’ but the ignorant nincompoop, never having before heard of the name of that illuſtrious perſon, exclaimed, ‘"Ay, this is a cock and a bull ſtory indeed."’ And reading ſtill farther, he came to thoſe beautiful and well ſelected lines of Ovid; upon which he obſerved, ‘"That this was ſome damned greek or latin jargon,"’ which he thanked God he knew nothing about, ‘"and there⯑fore, [x] (ſays he,) as the paper is very nice and ſoft, I will carry it to town with me, and ſhall do, what perhaps the author could not have done for himſelf, for I ſhall cer⯑tainly tranſmit his work to poſterity."’ Having pronounced this witticiſm with an air of ſelf-applauſe, he began to bundle up his papers, when by the moſt accidental ſtroke of good luck, I came, ſauntering into the place!—‘"What have you got here,"’ good Sir? ſays I. ‘"Nothing worth looking at,"’ replied the artiſt, telling me, at the ſame time where and how theſe old fuſty papers, as he was pleaſed to call them, had been diſcovered. This raiſed my curioſity, and having read the title page, and the learned hiſtorian's quotation from Ovid, I jumped for joy, and exclaimed ‘"By God, I have found a treaſure!"’ upon this, I obſerved both my architect and workmen began to ſtare at me, and at one⯑another, like ſo many ſtuck pigs. At length the artiſt addreſſing himſelf to me, ‘"Are theſe Sir,"’ ſaid he, ‘Title deeds which we have now diſcovered?"’ ‘"Title [xi] devils,"’ replied I, ‘you had nearly ruined me, by your ignorance; but thank God I came in time to ſave this valuable work!"’ and then collecting the mouldy ſheets, away I capered to my ſtudy, in a tranſport of joy, and immediately ſet myſelf down to read over this admirable performance.
I ſoon perceived that the air began to have a ſenſible effect upon the ſheets of my manuſcript, as they became ſo tender, it was with difficulty they could bear turn⯑ning over. I was therefore under the ne⯑ceſſity to ſet about tranſcribing the whole with great care and fidelity, altering not a word nor a ſyllable, nor even a letter of this excellent and juſtly admired hiſtorian.
I may therefore boaſt with great truth, that ſuch as I found it, I give it to the world, uninjured, unaltered, unimpaired. At what time this fragment was origi⯑nally wrote, I leave to the conjectures and inveſtigation of the learned and inge⯑nious. Neither ſhall I pretend to decide what period of the life and tranſactions of [xii] the illuſtrious John Bull, is here narrated. I do not mean to indulge conjecture. Our hiſtorian has himſelf hinted, that he treats of a period of that great man's exiſtence, when he was rather verging to⯑wards dotage. Indeed the inconſiſtency of his conduct, as here related, with the whole tenor of his former life and conver⯑ſation, affords but too good ground to juſtify our author's obſervation. Nor does even his nuptials, with the young, the proud, the haughty and aſſuming Miſs Prerogative, in any way diſprove, but ra⯑ther confirms what our author has ad⯑vanced.
But what above all ſerves to eſtabliſh this fact, is, the viſible decline of that great man's mental faculties, to that de⯑gree, as to allow himſelf to be compleatly deceived and led blindfold by the nurſe, of whom he was wont to entertain ſo root⯑ed a jealouſy, and to permit her, without oppoſition, to employ for his ſteward, an ignorant ſchool boy, altogether unac⯑quainted with mankind, and unſkilled in [xiii] buſineſs.—And this at a time, when John's affairs were much embroiled, and his fi⯑nances almoſt exhauſted, by continual ex⯑penſive and vexatious litigations. So that really if there was in his family, one man with more wiſdom, experience and know⯑ledge than another, this was undoubtedly the time to have called for an exertion of his abilities.
Be that as it may, we all know, that John's great failings from his infancy, were raſhneſs and precipitancy, and that he was credulous to a degree, ſcarcely con⯑ſiſtent with common ſenſe. Theſe foibles expoſed him ſadly to the malicious and fa⯑bricated reports of talebearers, goſſips, ſlanderers and liars, and are prominent features of his character, which our author has here moſt admirably depicted.
I once propoſed to have preſented the engliſh reader, with a tranſlation of our author's quotation from Ovid; but not finding myſelf quite equal to the taſk, I applied to our parſon, who is reckoned a [xiv] very pretty ſcholar. However, his verſion did not altogether pleaſe me, and I dropped my deſign. He for inſtance, had tranſlated Occaſus, Ireland; and Ortus, the Eaſt-Indies. This I objected to, obſerving, that although Ovid might very probably have heard of the Eaſt-Indies, yet I could not imagine that he had ever heard, or read much about Ireland. And for this and other reaſons, I determined to lay aſide all thoughts of an Engliſh verſion.
I have only farther to add, that although I have conſidered it as a pious duty which I owed to the manes of ſo great an hiſtorian to give his work to the public, without hazarding the ſmalleſt alteration, yet I am not ſo blinded by the brilliant merit of this celebrated writer, as not to confeſs that many inaccuracies have crept into his work; which in candour and fairneſs, we ought ſurely to attribute to his not having had ſufficient leiſure before his death, to re⯑duce it into a ſtate of finiſhed correctneſs. We muſt therefore view this little frag⯑ment of hiſtory as the precious and ſpi⯑rited [xv] ſketch of a great painter, which had not yet received the laſt and moſt correc⯑tive ſtrokes of his pencil, and where un⯑happily for mankind, too few of the wiſhed for pentimenti appear: and where ſtill more unhappily, the ample canvas is left unfilled with the grand and glorious compoſition.
If the peruſal of this curious and inter⯑eſting fragment ſhould afford as much en⯑tertainment and ſatisfaction to the public, as it has done to me, I ſhall eſteem my⯑ſelf amply rewarded for all my trouble in the publication.
I Once intended to have given to the Public, the following fragment of the hiſtory of that moſt excellent and eminent tradeſman, John Bull, Eſq without ſeek⯑ing for any great or powerful patron, un⯑der whoſe protection, it might be uſhered into the world, with greater luſtre and eclat. I had indeed almoſt perſuaded myſelf, that ſo authentic an hiſtory of that great man, written by ſo admirable an author as Sir Humphry Poleſworth, whoſe [xviii] character, as an able and faithful hiſto⯑rian, has been long eſtabliſhed beyond all the effort of cavil and criticiſm, could not require any ſuch extraordinary recom⯑mendation to a nation of tradeſmen, whoſe chief glory conſiſts in having, like the ce⯑lebrated John Bull, made their way thro' all difficulties, by a moſt aſſiduous and laborious induſtry.
But whilſt I was ruminating upon this matter, it ſuggeſted itſelf to my imagina⯑tion, that it would be much more faſhion⯑able to prefix a dedication to this moſt ineſtimable work.—Faſhion, ſir, which has ſuch influence over great minds, at once determined me, and I could not help recollecting with pleaſure, that even you yourſelf, was, during laſt ſeſſion of par⯑liament, prompted by this powerful mo⯑tive, to ſave the national credit, by pay⯑ing the navy and victualling bill-holders at par, which no other conſideration on earth, but faſhion, could have induced you to have done.
[xix] This, ſir, has alſo prevailed upon me to attempt this daring meaſure of dedica⯑tion. But how to approach you in terms of adequate eulogy, is that which creates my greateſt difficulty. I am ſenſible that I cannot poſſibly ſay any thing very new upon a ſubject, where you yourſelf and ſo many other ingenious ſtateſmen and ora⯑tors, have been exhauſting all the moſt pompous expreſſions and fulſome figures, to beſtow praiſe.
In this dangerous ſituation, coming over t [...] [...]lf-ſame ground, I am afraid I may [...]ntly incur the reproach of plagi⯑ [...]ſm. Sir Richard Hill, for inſtance, that ſublime Prophet, Preacher and Poet, has unhappily anticipated a very grand idea, which I had formed concerning you, and which indeed neither he nor I, need to plume ourſelves much upon, ſince it muſt be obvious, and will naturally oc⯑cur to every one who will give themſelves a moment's reflection: I mean that ſub⯑lime [xx] idea, by him ſo beautifully expreſſed, ‘"That Old England, and the Son of Old Chatham, muſt fall together!"’ It is in⯑deed a very true, but a very mortifying conſideration, to think that both theſe melancholly events cannot be at any great diſtance.
But, great ſir, allow me to ſay, that however true, and however ſublime this idea, yet was it extremely imprudent in our friend Sir Richard, to have mentioned this matter in ſo public an aſſembly, when it is well known, that there is one Perſon in the kingdom, ſtill greater than yourſelf, who may have taken the alarm at this poſition; and who I verily believe would be the moſt miſerable of mankind, did he conſider you as a fixture to the premiſes, not moveable at pleaſure. The very eſſence of authority for which he has been ſtruggling with ſo much zeal; [xxi] vigour and duplicity, ever ſince you was born.
Beſides by thus divulging the grand ar⯑canum of the empire, the worthy baron⯑et has expoſed us to our enemies, who, I have no doubt, ſhould you fall, would be ready to invade us by ſea and land; nay, perhaps by air; thus rendering, by means of balloons, our inſular ſituation, no ſecurity againſt our aeroſtatic foes.
But while I thus deſcant upon your a⯑mazing utility to the ſtate, I forget the principal purport of this dedication, which was to declare to you, that you may de⯑pend upon me, as being attached to you and you alone, for the reſt of my life, unleſs any thing of greater advantage than your patronage, ſhould tempt me to ſeek for protection elſewhere: In which caſe I am ſure, even your little knowledge of mankind, will prevent you from expect⯑ing any farther friendſhip from me. In⯑deed almoſt all of your preſent faſt friends, [xxii] may from paſt experience teach you this important leſſon. The Treaſurer of the Navy, after trying all parties, clings to you, as moſt uſeful to himſelf and to the ſtate. The Lord Chancellor, Lord Gower, the Duke of Richmond, the Rat Catcher, and all Lord North's quondam band of illuſtrious contractors, underſtand this max⯑im compleatly; and permit me to add, the greateſt of all examples, virtuous and immaculate ſir, that you yourſelf, when intereſt and ambition lead the way, can wheel from privilege to prerogative, with a crane neck on a new principle, by let⯑ters patent, under the Great Seal. And what was ſo well ſaid of a former popular miniſter in this country, may with equal juſtice be applied to your immaculate Self—
[xxiii] But again I forget myſelf on this be⯑witching ſubject—I forget that I write a dedication, and allow myſelf to be hurried down the rapid ſtream of diſſertation. Permit me only to add in your own claſ⯑ſical and elegant ſtile, that if I have miſſed any portion of praiſe, I ſhould have be⯑ſtowed, I do aſſure you it was not from any intention of blinking this favorite ſub⯑ject.—Conſider it, great Sir, as a mark of my impotence rather than any failure of my deſires.—
Being now arrived at that period of the hiſtory of the admirable and inimitable John Bull, which teems with the greateſt and moſt in⯑tereſting events of that great man's life. I ſhould think myſelf perfectly inexcuſable, if in imitation of other celebrated hiſtorians, I did not here pauſe, in order to inform my gentle reader, that I am highly ſenſible of the dignity and importance of my ſubject; and that no pains have been wanting on my part, to ſearch for truth, wherever ſhe could be found. I have not only examined every author, who has treated of theſe com⯑plicated tranſactions, but I have converſed with many perſons of great conſequence, in John Bull's own family, and have compared [2] their accounts, with what I found narrated in the annals and other authentic records of the times, carefully rejecting what appeared to me either falſe or ſpurious.
Barely to mention the numberleſs volumes, which I have found it neceſſary to conſult—The pamphlets, magazines, news-papers—ſpeeches never ſpoken—ſtatutes never un⯑derſtood, thoſe which have been repealed, and thoſe which ought never to have paſſed—petitions, remonſtrances, repreſentations, and addreſſes—The ballads, ſongs, ſquibs and epigrams—Barely to enumerate, theſe learn⯑ed authorities, would form a catalogue as voluminous as my hiſtory itſelf, and might appear in me, an effect of extreme oſten⯑tation and a vain parade of ſcience, which I would at all times wiſh to avoid—Whether I have ſucceeded in accompliſhing this great and important taſk, with ſkill and ability, be⯑comes not me to determine, but I ſhall cer⯑tainly await the deciſion of a well informed public, with a long and reſpectful ſilence.
John Bull's age—His penſive and ſenſible ſolilo⯑quy—Some prominent features of his character deſcribed.
JOHN BULL, was now arrived at that time of life, when people begin to ſuſpect that ſome of the follies incident to human na⯑ture may not improperly be imputed to a ſort of premature dotage. Be that as it may, there was no perſon of acute penetration, but might perceive that this great and good man, was rather verging towards the wane of life—The tedious, irkſome and unſucceſſfull lawſuit, which he had carried on, with his ungrateful and raſcally tenants, in the weſt country, who in order to caſt John, had been ſupplied both with caſh and with counſel by his old and in⯑veterate enemy, Louis Baboon, and others, had fretted John to the very guts: and then the diſgraceful manner in which that buſineſs had been compromiſed, by Malagrida, his late ſteward, had hurt his feelings very much. For to ſay truth, John was e'en as humane a good hearted fellow, as you would ſee amongſt a thouſand. He was frequently ſeen walking in a penſive mood, backwards and forwards, through his [4] hall, at Bullock's hatch, and was often over-heard muttering to himſelf, ſomewhat to the follow⯑ing purposſe,
Zounds! My people might at leaſt have taken ſome care of thoſe poor tenan's of mine in the weſt country, who really befriended my cauſe; but to leave them to be turned out of their farms—To be dragged from their houſes and homes; nay, even to have many of their throats cut by thoſe inhuman and lawleſs ban⯑ditti their neighbours, appears to me a moſt ſhocking buſineſs—Oh, John Bull—John Bull, thou art ſadly diſgraced by thy ſervants!—But damn it, what could I expect from that infa⯑mous, hardened ſcoundrel Malagrida—I ſup⯑poſe he found it neceſſary for himſelf, that matters ſhould be made up—No doubt he and his aſſociate, that ſupple loon Harry Mac Bum⯑bo—have filled their pockets by it.
Well, I do really think one of the beſt things ever my poor wife did for me; was the diſmiſſing of thoſe knaves from my ſervice. I know the nurſe has a ſort of ſneaking kindneſs for that fellow Malagrida, for he has a curſed artful wheedling tongue, can flatter ye by the hour, and lie like the very devil—When it ſerves his purpoſe—For my own part, I can't [5] ſay I ever had a good opinion of the dog—I like people of my own temper—fair, open and above board: nothing hidden or concealed. At the ſame time, I muſt confeſs, I am ſo far of the nurſe's way of thinking, that it appears to me a very ridiculous thing, to ſee my old friends, Boreas and young Renard, ſo cordial and ſhaking hands together, after giving one another the lye ſo often in my wife's hearing, and calling one another all the bad names they could invent. This to be ſure is ſomewhat very extraordinary and almoſt convinces me that theſe gentry fall in, and fall out, juſt as their own intereſt directs them, without much mind⯑ing my good, or that of my family. I believe verily they are all rogues together; that I take to be the plain Engliſh of it.—Not but that I muſt needs confeſs, I think both Boreas and Re⯑nard, are very clever fellows, as any ever I had within my doors—Boreas, I always took to be a good humoured, droll, facetious fellow with a vaſt of wit, great parts and great expe⯑rience in my affairs, and had always a deal to ſay for himſelf. He was once as well with the nurſe, as any man alive, that is, while the obey⯑ed all her orders implicitly, much againſt his own inclination. But now I know ſhe hates him like the devil for his junction with Renard, [6] and the more he acts like a man of honour, in his new connection, ſhe will like him the worſe—for ſhe's a proud, obſtinate vin⯑dictive, old b—, as ever exiſted. Well hang her, if I care a damn whether ſhe's pleaſed or no, if they agree ſo as to manage my affairs to good purpoſe; for I am ſure they never required more care, attention and ability, than at preſent, to get me out of the curſed ſcrape I am now in, for which I have to thank her pride and obſtinacy, and be damned to her, lead⯑ing me in to all this fooliſh, abſurd litigation, with ſuch a ſet of raſcally ungrateful ſcound⯑rels—And now I have got a compleat verdict againſt me with exorbitant coſts of fuit, and where all this immenſe ſum is to come from, God only knows.
Thus John went on in a ſoliloquy that had no end, when he was in theſe gloomy penſive moods, and theſe recurred, but too frequently of late, for he really felt his ſituation grievous, unſucceſsful in his lawſuit, and up to the eyes in debt. What was his only confort, and I ſin⯑cerely believe he felt it as a real comfort at this time, was to think that his affairs were now both in active and able hands, for al⯑though he was at firſt ſomewhat hurt at the [7] ſudden coalition of Boreas and Renard—yet he was ſoon reconciled to it, and uſed to confeſs what was true, that it was very much his own temper to forgive injuries, and forget animo⯑ſities—‘"I can eaſily ſuppoſe, ſays he, that being both open, frank, and good humoured, they have agreed to meet with ſome mutual friends over a bottle, and to ſhake hands, and forget all former quarrels"’—Beſides, ſays John, ‘"My wife, who is a very, diſcreet ſenſible wo⯑man, has a high opinion of them both, and has frequently told me, ſhe was perfectly ſure, that it was their ſincere affection for me, that prompted them to ſo unexpected a reconcili⯑ation, for that they could not bear to ſee my affairs ſo bungled and bedeviled as they were by that ſad dog Malagrida, and his profligate aſſociate Harry Mac Bumbo, with young Pam, his apprentice."’ Such was the language which John Bull uſed to hold once and again on this ſubject. But alas his ſatisfaction and peace of mind, were not long lived, as we ſhall ſee by the ſequel of this uſeful and authentic hiſtory.
For there it will be found, that though John Bull, was as ſenſible and as well meaning a tradeſman as any you would wiſh to ſee or converſe withal, and one who underſtood his [8] own buſineſs thoroughly, and had a ſort of a ſmatter of every thing—Yet had he a moſt un⯑fortunate temper for his own intereſt: by which means he often marred the beſt concerted plans, and even ſo it happened now. John with a very large ſhare of good ſenſe, was of all mankind, the moſt credulous. You could by art and perſuaſion, and a competent portion of effrontery, make him ſwallow down any thing, however abſurd and improbable. This un⯑lucky temper, had made John, the conſtant dupe, of every quack of every profeſſion, who could get acquainted with him. Should any man ſay and aſſert it boldly, that he could go into a quart bottle, John would immediately give ear to it. Ay, and would have rode or run a hundred miles, to have ſeen this admirable trick performed. If another would pretend that he could pay off all his debts, in the courſe of a few years, John would gape and liſten to him, with the greateſt attention.
This foible of John's, was well known in the family, and not this foible only, otherwiſe it might have paſſed unnoticed, as not being at⯑tended with any very bad conſequences; but added to this, John was of that violent and pre⯑cipitate temper, that without the leaſt exami⯑nation into the reaſonableneſs, or truth, or [9] probability of what he heard, he would imme⯑diately ſet to work and enter upon the execu⯑tion of any new project, with as much ardour and zeal, as if he had the beſt authority for it. Nor would he hear a ſingle ſyllable from any friend, who adviſed him to think of the mat⯑ter and to take time to deliberate and conſider what he was about. Many a ſcoundrel had taken great advantage of theſe failings, to their own emolument and John's diſgrace. Yet he never grew wiſer from experience, but the next comer, that would talk beg enough, and boaſt of his own knowledge and talents, was ſure to meet the moſt favorable reception from John, who ſwallowed every ſpecies of rodo⯑montade as if it had been goſpel, and never would give himſelf time to reflect on the con⯑ſequences of ſuch egregious folly and non⯑ſenſe.
Boreas and Renard, ſet themſelves in good earn⯑eſt to arrange John Bull's affairs. Short Hiſ⯑tory of the Eaſt country clerks—Their extreme vigilance and avarice deſcribed—Serious intention to cleanſe the counting-houſe, which is prevented by John Bull's nurſe.
NOT only the ſenfible and thinking part of John Bull's own family, but likewiſe all the neighbours to a man, agreed that he had been extremely lucky in having his affairs put into ſuch able hands as thoſe of Boreas and Renard, and thoſe who really wiſhed him well, were happy in congratulating him upon this event; an event which he owed entirely to the good ſenſe, prudence and diſcretion of Mrs. Bull, who in every action of her life, had ſhown great dignity, and independence and an unremitting zeal for her huſband's welfare—Nobody knew better than her, the embarraſſed ſituation of John's affairs, and it was univerſally allowed that ſhe could not have put them into better or abler hands, than into thoſe of Boreas and Renard, who to their talents and expe⯑rience, added great zeal to exert themſelves in arranging John's finances, in ſettling his [11] books, ballancing his accompts, and in ex⯑tending and regulating his trade. But what moſt of all required their immediate attention, was the ſtrange buſineſs and abuſes that had crept into John's counting houſe, where a ſet of his clerks had been carrying on a rare ſpot of work, and finding that John was too much engaged in law to give them any great attention, they had entered into the ſaddeſt ſcenes of peculation, plunder, knavery and oppreſſion, that ever were heard of, in a chriſ⯑tian country. Theſe fellows contrived a plan, by which they thought they might be conſide⯑rable gainers without hurting John in the ſmal⯑leſt degree. Obſerving therefore that there was a ſet of lazy lubbardly Eaſt-country ſquires, who were not cleverly ſupplied with John's goods, and who had alſo many commodities, the produce of their farms, which they ima⯑gined would be uſeful to John in return, they propoſed to take the carrying on this traffic off John's hands, to free him from the trouble and expence of it, promiſing at the ſame time, to bring the whole produce and profits to Bul⯑lock's-hatch, by which not only they, but alſo John himſelf would reap very great advantage.
[12] This project pleaſed John hugely and his wife ſtill more, for the ladies are always capti⯑vated by wonderful adventures, and romantic and difficult exploits, which I am convinced, may have been partly the cauſe of their great and ardent deſire of travelling into Scotland with ſo much rapidity and eagerneſs, as has often happened in former times.
John Bull, and his wife were therefore perfectly agreed, in granting to theſe ſame crafty clerks, an excluſive privilege to carry on this traffic, with the aforeſaid 'ſquires. To work went the clerks with a greedy induſtry, and traded away at a vaſt rate, till they acquired great riches and a greater name. Then it was, that many of the young ſervants about John's family, wiſhed to be ſent out, that they alſo might have opportunities of puſhing their fortunes. And accordingly, great numbers of ſprightly younkers, were ſent who being extremely intent upon the neateſt way of filling their purſes, they bethought themſelves, that trade was not the only method by which large for⯑tunes could be acquired, but that it might be to the full as good, and as expeditious a way to get rid of the eaſtern ſquires altogether, by foul or by fair means, no matter which, and [13] ſo to take poſſeſſion of their eſtates for them⯑ſelves.
This ſucceeded to a miracle, for in a ſhort ſpace of time, our ſpirited Younkers, ſtabbed ſome, ſhot others, poiſoned, ſold, impriſoned, betrayed, bribed, bullied and trampled down, to ſuch a pitch, that they made themſelves abſolute maſters of whole pariſhes. And ſo powerful, and ſo rich were they become by this management, that nobody in that part of the country, and far leſs at Bullock's-hatch, dared to ſay a word againſt them, or find any fault whatever, with their proceedings.
In this way, you would often ſee ſtrange low-lived fellows, ſuch as cheeſe-monger's⯑boys, waiters at taverns, alehouſe-keeper's ſons, and the like, after they had been ſome years in the eaſt country, and being what the Scots call ſharp loons, they would pillage and pe⯑culate, and plunder, and cheat their poor op⯑preſt tenantry, to ſuch a degree that in the courſe of two or three years, they would re⯑turn to Bullock's-hatch, with great evergrown fortunes, where you might often have ſeen them ſtrutting about the hall, and the parlours, and giving themſelves incredible airs, as if [14] John Bull himſelf had been nothing compared with them. Nay, they were even ſo amazingly pert and forward, from their ſucceſs, that they would have had the impudence to take out a gold paſs key, which they uſually brought home with them, and wore in their breeches pocket, with which they would at times turn the latch of Mrs. Bull's chamber door, and walk in, with the greateſt eaſe and familiarity, and would then ſet themſelves down upon the firſt ſeat that came in their way, without ſo much as ſaying with your leave, or by your leave. If Mrs. Bull took no notice of them, it was nothing to thoſe gentry, if ſhe, or any of her ſervants ſpoke to them, they would begin and chatter away, as faſt as any of the family could do for their hearts or ſouls.
Now it ſo happened, that juſt at this time thoſe cunning clerks were running a fine ca⯑reer of rapine, perfidy and peculation, greatly to their own emolument, but to the eternal diſgrace of John Bull, and his family. In ſo⯑much, that not only John's wife, family, and friends, but likewiſe all the neighbours were crying ſhame upon him, for not better regu⯑lating the conduct of his ſervants. There ſeemed therefore to be an univerſal deſire in [15] the family, to ſee an end put to theſe ſad ſcenes of plunder and oppreſſion, devaſtation and ruin.
But nobody was more ſenſible of the neceſ⯑ſity of a reform than Boreas and Renard. Mr. Whigman, the ſteward, a very honeſt man, had it alſo much at heart, and promiſed all his aſſiſtance to carry on this meaſure. Nor did any one about the family pretend more zeal for it than John's nurſe, a perſon of a very ſingular character, who in order to indulge in one favorite paſſion, could with pleaſure ſa⯑crifice to it, every conſideration, and com⯑pleatly diſguiſe every other feeling of her mind. To this ruling paſſion was owing the part we ſhall now ſee her play in John's affairs, the extraordinary means ſhe uſed to prevent the propoſed reform, and the curious ſteps ſhe took to overſet Mr. Whigman, Boreas, Re⯑nard, and the reſt of John's ableſt, and moſt truſty ſervants.
Birth, parentage, and education of John Bull's Nurſe—She is enraged, but diſſembles her anger—She determines to trip up the heels of John's beſt ſervants, and thus to gratify her revenge.
BEFORE I proceed to this part of my authentic hiſtory, it is very neceſſary for the better underſtanding of future events that I ſhould here relate a few particulars reſpecting John Bull's nurſe, and the great ſway ſhe bore in his family.
Mrs. Herenhauſen, for that was the name of the nurſe, was by the father's ſide, of German extraction, and of an exceeding good family, both by father and mother, and very ſenſible was ſhe of it herſelf, and very vain of ſuch pre-eminence. Her father died when ſhe was yet a child, and ſo the care of her education fell to her mother, and to one Sawney Macthane, a queer, proud, pompous and pedantic fellow, formerly of ſiſter Peg's family. This taſk, Sawney, undertook with great pleaſure, and in⯑ſtilled many of his own extravagant and fan⯑taſtic [17] notions into the girls head—by telling her that ſhe might expect one day or another, to have great power in John Bull's family, and how ſhe ought to manage to drive, or lead him—and how ſhe ought to have all his ſervants of her own chuſing, and never to permit either John or his Wife to make choice of any. ‘"And if ever it ſo happens,"’ ſaid Sawney, ‘"that they ſhould claim ſuch privileges, you ſhould ne⯑ver reſt, night or day, till you can get them diſmiſſed, and new ones put in their places; for that is the only rule, for maintaining abſolute power in John's family."’ And indeed it muſt be confeſſed, that this maxim of Sawney's, was not a bad one, for procuring and maintaining power in any private family.
It fell out, juſt as Sawney had foretold; for he, like many more of Peg's family, was endued with a curious talent, called the ſecond ſight. In ſhort, the nurſe got a place in John's houſe, and ſhe ſo improved it, what from her own natural temper, what from Sawney's inſtruc⯑tions, that ſhe ſoon acquired great ſway there, and her word paſſed for a law amongſt all the ſervants, who ſtood much in awe of her, and cringed, curtſied and bowed to her, more than they did to John Bull himſelf.
[18] This naturally increaſed the nurſe's pride and high notions of her own dignity and importance. And Sawney's maxim reſpecting the manage⯑ment of the ſervants had made ſuch an im⯑preſſion upon her mind, that it was never abſent from her imagination. So that from the love of ſway, and John and his Wife's eaſy tempers, the old woman was become ex⯑tremely inſolent, imperious and ſo obſtinate withal, that you might well ſee ſhe had a good portion of the German blood in her veins.
From this arrogance and pride, ſhe had firſt engaged John in that fatal lawſuit, with his tenants in the weſt country, her curſed obſti⯑nacy was the cauſe of its being carried on, and her damned paſſion for chooſing every perſon in John's ſervice, was the reaſon why ſhe alſo took upon her to name John's lawyers and at⯑torneys, and ſo furniſhed him with as compleat a ſet of rogues and petty-foggers, as any poor litigious man was ever bleſſed with.
Never was there a plainer or clearer caſe, than that of John's, and if it was neceſſary to go to law, which many ſenſible men thought neither neceſſary nor prudent; yet certainly the action being once brought and the ſuit com⯑menced, every one muſt acknowledge John [19] was confoundedly ill uſed by his counſel, who run him to immoderate expence, without hav⯑ing genius or capacity, and without even in⯑clination to take one deciſive ſtep that might bring this affair to a fortunate iſſue.
However all thoſe rare gentry were the choice of the nurſe, and therefore tho' John growled, he was determined to ſee it to an end, but Mrs. Bull, being at length heartily tired, and com⯑plaining moſt grievouſly of the immoderate ex⯑pence, ſhe was fully determined to bring mat⯑ters to a ſpeedy concluſion—and the nurſe ſee⯑ing ſhe could not help herſelf, employed Ma⯑lagrida to compromiſe the affair, which he did, in ſo ſcandalous and bungling a manner, as both to diſguſt Mr. and Mrs. Bull, which occaſioned his diſgrace and diſmiſſion from his ſervice.
Then it was that old Boreas and Renard, determined gloriouſly to ſave John and the family from more miſchief, by making up all their former quarrels, and forgetting or for⯑giving paſt injuries. Mrs. Bull, who was as well conditioned a woman as ever lived, was extremely happy at this reconciliation, for ſhe ſaw the great advantage it would be of to her huſband's affairs. But John himſelf, was not near ſo clear about it, and uſed to reaſon and [20] growl concerning it, exactly in the manner we have deſcribed above, ſometimes he thought it perfectly right, ſometimes he thought it quite wrong, and alledged, that it was highly indecent and improper for two good-natured men, to make up their former quarrels in order to ſerve him and his family.
Mrs. Bull, however, in this matter, judged much more diſpaſſionately and ſenſibly, and knowing the great merit of the parties, ſhe ſtrongly recommended their being employed in the future ſettlement of John's affairs; which was accordingly done.
It is not eaſy to conceive how much the nurſe was enraged at this proceeding, for tho' ſhe had been made privy to it, and had coldly aſ⯑ſented, yet ſhe had not been the perſon to pro⯑poſe the meaſure. In ſhort, the propoſition came from Mrs. Bull, to whom ſhe had a very great diſlike, as we ſhall ſee more fully here⯑after. And altho' ſhe had borne her no ill will whatever, ſtill it was Mrs. Bull's, and not her own propoſal.
However, as ſhe was from her infancy a per⯑fect miſtreſs of diſſimulation. ſhe pretended intire ſatisfaction and acquieſcence with all [21] the family arrangements now taking place, affected great good humour, and put on the air of compleat reconciliation and complacency.
All this time however, ſhe harboured ven⯑geance in her mind—ſhe vowed revenge, for being naturally extremely vindictive, ſhe wait⯑ed with impatience a favourable opportunity, when ſhe might put her deſigns into ex⯑ecution, and ſoothe her implacable reſentment, as we ſhall ſee by the ſequel of this eventful hiſtory.
The Nurſe makes choice of Pam, as the inſtrument of her vengeance—His education and character—He converſes with Mrs. Bull—Is diſconcerted at his cool reception—Is comforted by his Couſin Trim Stutter.
THE nurſe immediately fixed her eyes upon a young lad, bred in John's compting-houſe, as a fit inſtrument for her purpoſed re⯑venge. And ſo he was a very proper agent for her preſent purpoſes. The young man I mean, whoſe name was Pam, was ſon to Namby Pamby, an eminent quack, who had practiſed in the [22] neighbourhood, with great ſucceſs, and had ac⯑quired thereby a mighty reputation for cures in deſperate caſes. Certain it is, that he was a very impudent, preſumptuous and pompous fel⯑low, and uſed to harangue the multitude with great effect, ſo that they would ſtand with their mouths open, and ſwallow down for goſpel all his hubble bubble jargon—If, ſays he, there are any diſtempers raging in America, I will cure them ‘"by ordering ſome large doſes of my pills to be ſent over to Germany."’—This ſort of rodomantade nobody underſtood, and to be ſure nobody could underſtand—and yet it was ſwal⯑lowed down with wonderful avidity by the po⯑pulace, who admired the bold aſſeverations of the man, and even gave him credit for his unpar⯑ralelled effrontery. Such was the fire of a moſt promiſing ſon, who if he had been bred to his father's profeſſion, would have out-ſtripped any empiric of any age or country—never was youth ſo well calculated by nature for this important ſcience. Nobody was better qualified for the happy practice of every trick and deceit re⯑quiſite for ſucceeding in this ingenious profeſ⯑ſion. No body could have diſtributed the pill or noſtrum, with a better grace, or more ſelf⯑ſufficiency. Nobody could have better amuſed the multitude, with founding ſentences equally [23] devoid of ſenſe or argument. But there is a peculiarity of fate attends every man; ſo that inſtead of being brought up to the external ſtage, it ſo fell out that young Pam, for ſo his name was familiarly contracted, was bound apprentice to a grocer.—But this crafty youth aſpiring to greater things, and feeling in him⯑ſelf the ſeeds of a towering treachery and chi⯑cane, ſoon broke his apprenticeſhip, and John Bull, for his father's ſake (for he had cured him of a bad rupture) gave the lad a very ſnug birth in his compting-houſe, where he was put under the immediate and inſtructive tuition of one Harry Mac-Bumbo, and he, together with his preceptor, had been aiding and abetting in framing the late infamous compromiſe, re⯑ſpecting the long litigated affair of the weſt country tenantry.
Young Pam, of whom we ſhall have occaſion to ſpeak more at large hereafter, was a youth of pregnant parts, and as I have before ob⯑ſerved, had excellent talents for haranguing the multitude. Though I am apt to think they were much over-rated, and that his own view of them was through a large magnifying medium. Add to this, he enjoyed a very hand⯑ſome portion of ſuperciliouſneſs, great arro⯑gance, great obſtinacy, great pompoſity of ex⯑preſſion, [24] together with great craft, cunning duplicity, and meanneſs of mind—To theſe were joined a prepoſterous ambition, not for power, but for the mere ſhadow and ſemblance of it. To gratify this ſtrange equivocal paſſion, he would have ſacrificed every conſideration human or divine.—To enjoy this phantom, there was no degree of meanneſs he would not ſubmit to. Nor did he feel ſore at the neceſſity of flat⯑tering, fawning and crouching, to thoſe who were in poſſeſſion of the real object of his deſires.
Such was the perſon fixed upon by the nurſe, for the management of her propoſed enterprize, when time ſhould have properly matured mat⯑ters for action, for which ſhe waited with a fever of impatience. Nor was the youth and inexperience of Pam, any ſerious objection in her eyes: for what ſhe required was implicit obedience, without either reflection or know⯑ledge.
She alſo communicated her ſecret intentions to ſome other choſen aſſociates, among whom was one Surly, a leading conſpirator, to whom it is ſaid, Pam, owed his preſent promotion, having been recommended by him, as the moſt proper tool for ſuch a tranſaction.
[25] Surly, was by nature formed for a conſpirator, of a ſtern and capricious turn of mind, he was as Shakeſpear phraſes it, fit for treaſon, ſtra⯑tagem and ſpoil, and took upon himſelf the great direction of this diſgraceful buſineſs.
Things were now beginning to ripen, and the nurſe and Surly, had ſettled their plan. The nurſe therefore ſent for Pam, informing him of what great things ſhe would do for him, if he would undertake this buſineſs. The boy's head was perfectly turned with this unexpected piece of good fortune, by which he ſaw plainly that he ſhould have the appearance of enjoying great power and pre-eminence in the family—accord⯑ingly he did not require a moment to conſider of what was prudent and proper for him to do, or what he really was able for—all that was perfectly out of the queſtion, and his uſual preſumption determined him at once to em⯑brace this tempting offer of the nurſe.
She finding ſhe had hit upon the fitteſt tool in the world for her purpoſe, adviſed him to go without loſs of time to Mrs. Bull's apartment, and call upon her to exert herſelf in concerting and carrying through a compleat reform and regulation of thoſe clerks, who had taken upon [26] themſelves the tranſactions of the Eaſt country trade.
Pam, went accordingly, and executed his com⯑miſſion with a good grace. He told Mrs. Bull, that ſuch a licentious conduct in a ſet of clerks, ill became that character for humanity, and that reputation for regularity which Mr Bull had acquired in the trading world; that it was a great diſgrace upon him, and upon the whole family, and that for his part he wiſhed of all things to ſee a proper reform ſet on foot. Not a trivial enquiry, a palliative or half meaſure, but a ſtrong, manly and decided determination, to ſtem that torrent of villainy and abuſe of power, which were become ſhameful, not only in the eyes of Mr. Bull and his family, but alſo in thoſe of all the neighbours.
Renard, happened to be in Mrs. Bull's cham⯑ber, when Pam held this diſcourſe, and ſaid candidly, openly and ingeniouſly, that he was truly aſhamed he had never yet ſtirred in a bu⯑ſineſs, which he felt ſo eſſentially neceſſary to the reputation and proſperity of Mr. Bull and the houſe, and as one of his confidential ſecre⯑taries, he reckoned it his duty to prepare and lay a plan before Mrs. Bull for her opinion and approbation.
[27] Accordingly comes Mr. Renard, in a few days with his plan, and a very ſenſible and well di⯑geſted one it was, and extremely well calculated for the purpoſe.
Pam was preſent when Renard read it over to Mrs. Bull, and was chuckling and perfectly hap⯑py to think he had now got Renard to propoſe an affair, which he was fully convinced would ruin him for ever. Mrs. Bull, he knew had a little penchant towards the preſent eſtabliſh⯑ment, and he was in the higheſt hopes, that ſhe would reject the plan propoſed by Renard, which plan he thought would throw him into perfect diſgrace, with John Bull, his family, and counting-houſe—Beſides Pam well knew, that many of Mrs. Bull's ſervants were clearly in the intereſt of the eaſt country clerks, from motives of ſelf-intereſt and from douceurs, which they had either touched, or were in hopes of touch⯑ing. Nay, it was even ſhrewdly ſuſpected in the family, that the nurſe herſelf, and ſome of her neareſt connections, had at times felt ſome⯑thing of an itching palm, and that ſhe had no greater averſion than her neigbours to the luſtre of oriental gew-gaws; of which little frailties, female minds are wonderfully ſuſceptible. How far this may have been the caſe at preſent, I [28] will not take upon me to determine, but if it was ſo, it muſt be allowed, that upon this, as well as on other occaſions, ſhe perfectly under⯑ſtood how to diſſemble, for ſhe not only agreed to the neceſſity of a reform, but even approved of the propoſed plan as effectual.
Pam was however egregiouſly miſtaken with reſpect to Mrs. Bull, who ſaw with her uſual good ſenſe, that trifling regulations would not do the buſineſs, and that it required ſuch vi⯑gorous meaſures as Pam himſelf had propoſed and Renard had planned.
Never was poor wretch ſo humbled and ſo creſt fallen as was Mr. Pam, when he heard Mrs. Bull's ſentiments upon this ſubject. He left the apartment quite in deſpair, having no con⯑ſolation remaining, but in the ſupport and ob⯑ſtinacy of the nurſe.—Juſt as he was going through the lobby, with a heavy heart; for⯑tunately for him, he met with one Trim Stutter, a near relation of his own, to whom he briefly related what had paſſed. Trim, who was a man of intrigue, bid Pam be of good cheer, for ſo long as he had the patronage and pro⯑tection of the nurſe, he ſaid he had nothing to fear. I will go to her this very night, ſays [29] Trim, there is a private back way I have of getting at her apartment, and I will then pro⯑poſe a ſcheme by which I think Renard's plan may yet be defeated, and he and his friends be laid on their backs.
How Trim Stutter mounts the back ſtairs, and gets into the Nurſe's private apartments. The curi⯑ous converſation which there enſued: A conver⯑ſation well worth the ſtricteſt attention of ſtates⯑men and others.
TRIM was as good as his word.—As ſoon as it was dark, away he goes to the back door, which leads to a pair of back ſtairs, that go up to the nurſe's apartment, groping his way as well as he could; at laſt, with the help of a dark lanthorn, he finds out the place, and be⯑ing very thin and lank, he ſqueezes himſelf up the narrow winders, with great ſtillneſs and alacrity. Having now reached the nurſe's apartment, he made an apology for diſturbing her at that unſeaſonable time of night, and ſig⯑nified, that nothing but the importance of the buſineſs, could have made him take the liberty of approaching her perſon: but that being ex⯑tremely [30] attached to her, he could do no leſs than repreſent the danger which threatned her. ‘"What! What!"’ ſaid the nurſe, as her manner was, when ſhe wiſhed to have any thing re⯑peated. Perhaps on this occaſion, ſhe might have perfectly underſtood her informer: but ſhe was happy to hear the repetition of a ſub⯑ject ſo agreeable.
What madam! ſaid Trim, can your ladyſhip (for Trim was a very courtly perſon, and under⯑ſtood flattery well) be ignorant, that ſhould this plan of Renard's, take place, for the reform of the Eaſt country clerks, your power in this family will be annihilated for ever?
Nurſe. ‘What! what!’
Trim. ‘Don't you plainly perceive madam, that this plan puts it out of your ladyſhip's, power ever to name any of the ſervants for the management of the Eaſt country buſineſs? The whole is put into the hands of a few of Re⯑nard's particular friends, and they will have ſo much in their power, and ſo many good things to give away, that it muſt eſtabliſh on the ſureſt footing both Renard's and Boreas's influence in the compting-houſe, and in the family, inſomuch that nobody will ever pay court to your lady⯑ſhip [31] again, and you muſt remain a cypher for ever after.’
Nurſe. ‘Very juſt, Mr Stutter, very juſt in⯑deed, but how can I prevent this evil; what is to be done?’
Trim. ‘Nothing ſo eaſy madam, go to Mrs. Bull, and let her know, that in ſuch a caſe, you can by a long eſtabliſhed right which you enjoy, abſolutely ſtop the further progreſs of this abominable plan.’
Nurſe. ‘That is true, Mr. Stutter, I know I can, but I do not like it. You know I have already approved of it, and therefore to fly directly in its face, would not have a very good look, for a perſon of my family and character—No that won't do, but if you can ſuggeſt any indirect means of ſtifling this plan, I am very well inclined to adopt that method.’
Trim. ‘Perfectly right, an't pleaſe your lady⯑ſhip. But there is ſtill another way, which is indirect, and conſequently better ſuited to your diſpoſition. What I would propoſe, is, that your ladyſhip ſhould give me a few lines to Mrs Bull's ſervants in her upper apartment, where Renard's plan now lies, and I know, that with your authority, and a few ſhiners, properly [32] applied, together with promiſes of ſome of thoſe pretty coloured ribbons, white ſticks, and other toys, which you uſed to make preſents of, I ſhall get her ſervants to break their words, betray their truſts, and throw all the pa⯑pers out of the window, and make them give out that they have been loſt or miſlaid, God knows how.’
Nurſe. ‘I thank you, my good couſin Stutter; this is an excellent idea of yours—But what is next to be done, for this fellow Renard is in⯑defatigable? You may depend upon it, he will have another plan of the ſame kind prepared and laid before Mrs. Bull, who in the humour ſhe is now in, will again approve of it, and recom⯑mend it to John.’
Trim. ‘Certainly, madam, all this will be done, if your ladyſhip permits it, but Lord how eaſy is it, with your power and influence, to prevent any ſuch thing?’
Nurſe. ‘How, how! Mr. Stutter, I am all impatience?’
Trim. ‘How! why ſet Whigman, Boreas and Renard, and all their adherents a packing, with⯑out any ceremony.’
[33] Nurſe. ‘Yes, that I would do with all my heart, Mr. Stutter, but what would John, and what would his Wife ſay to it?’
Trim. ‘As to Bull, madam, you well know what a clod-pated, numſculled, beaſtly fellow it is. Surely you have not lived ſo long in this family, without learning how eaſily he may be hood-winked, and convinced that black is white.’
Nurſe. ‘For God's-ſake explain yourſelf! for I will do any thing from hatred and revenge.’
Trim. ‘Ay, madam, theſe are indeed princely paſſions, and ought to be indulged!—Was I in your ladyſhip's place, I would never forgive thoſe two infamous ſcoundrels, Boreas and Re⯑nard, for baſely forgetting paſt injuries, and daring to coaleſce for the good of Bull's affairs. This ſhows more than any thing what damned milky blooded villains they are. I beg pardon for ſwearing in your ladyſhip's preſence, but I always grow warm on this ſubject.’
Nurſe. ‘But good Mr. Stutter, I pray you point out my path to vengeance, and let me know how I muſt manage that beaſtly monſter, Bull.—’
[34] Trim. ‘The eaſieſt thing in the world, ma⯑dam, I ſhall have a ſet of profligate hirelings taken into pay, in order to ſpread a parcel of the moſt confounded lies, that ever were in⯑vented. I'll have rumours carried into every coffee-houſe, tavern and ale-houſe, that Bull frequents. For inſtance, I'll have it given out, that Renard had formed a plot againſt your long eſtabliſhed authority in this family, and that he, Whigman, and Boreas, had conſpired to annihilate your power. That in order to do this more effectually, they were going to have aſſumed to themſelves all the power and poſſeſſions of the Eaſt country clerks, and that they were going, by their new plan, under pretence of reformation, to have ſeized and confiscated all their property, to have ſtolen the written agreement, formerly made, ſigned, ſealed, and delivered, and that this was only a prelude to their making away with every other agreement, deed, and charter in the poſſeſſion of John Bull, by which he holds his lands, liberties and franchiſes. I ſhall alſo have it given out, that this ſame Renard was abſolutely caught, picking the lock of Bull's ſtrong-room, where the title-deeds were lodg⯑ed, and even the greateſt of all deeds, by old Glorious, ſtiled Magna Farta: and that if it had [35] not been for your ladyſhip's watchful eye, and maternal care of John's concerns, there is lit⯑tle doubt but the villain would have made away with the whole, and got clear off.’
Nurſe. ‘This is a moſt admirable ſtratagem, ſweet Mr. Trim, there is no end to your won⯑derful fertility in expedients. I have no doubt but this will go down, and ſucceed with Bull, for he is moſt comfortably ſtupid.’
Trim. ‘Go down, madam! I'll pledge my⯑ſelf it ſhall go down; for if he ſhould not be⯑lieve it at firſt, as to be ſure it is ſomewhat incredible, yet I will have a ſet of fellows hire⯑ed, ycleped garreteers, and ſcriblers, who ſhall force it down his throat, ſo that he ſhall either ſwallow, or choak upon it.’
Nurſe. ‘Ha! ha! ha! My dear couſin Stutter, though I am very poorly with a bilious com⯑plaint, yet I muſt laugh at your way of expreſſing yourſelf: there is no reſiſting your ſterling hu⯑mour. I now ſee my way diſtinctly. I ſhall get compleat revenge of thoſe worthleſs ſcoundrels who wanted to govern this family by means of Mrs. Bull, forſooth; as if her word was to be a law. No truly! this family, and all mankind ſhall ſee that Mrs. Herenhauſen is ſomebody.’
[36] Trim. ‘Somebody, madam! Why if you know yourſelf, you are every body, and every thing, and ſhould, and ſhall abſolutely command this family, from head to foot.’
Nurſe. ‘My dear couſin, you ſhall know all the feelings of my ſoul, I will not attempt to conceal any of them from you. Love of ſway, deſire of revenge, and a little ſqueeze of malice, here and there, by way of reliſh, are what I like with all my heart, and therefore to indulge theſe at preſent, I would give up any conſideration whatever, I would even ſacrifice Bull, and his affairs, and allow them to go to the devil; I could be reconciled to my moſt deteſted enemies, ſo they could be aiding to my preſent purpoſe. On ſuch an irreſiſtible occa⯑ſion, I could embrace with cordiality the once loathſome Jack Squintum—the blaſphemer of his God, the libeller of his King, and the traducer of my mother's fair fame.’
Trim. ‘Very noble, very generous indeed, madam; every word, every feeling, ſhews what a great ſoul you are poſſeſſed of [...]!’
Nurſe. ‘But Mr Stutter, allow me to ſay, there is ſtill one great deſect in our plan, for though we may, and I truſt we have contrived to blind⯑fold [37] Bull compleatly, yet we have a much more difficult taſk to reconcile his wife to our plan, for ſhe no doubt is a ſenſible woman, and is moſt ſincerely attached, from good opinion, both to Boreas and Renard—and conſequently may take their diſmiſſion extremely ill out. In this caſe, perhaps ſhe may diſpute the point with me; and if ſhe gets John to ſide with her, he may play up old gooſeberry with us, for you well know what a furious ungovernable ani⯑mal it is.—’
Trim. ‘I perfectly foreſee this difficulty, and do think with your ladyſhip, that it is not im⯑poſſible but Mrs Bull, may opiniatre the matter a little—and no doubt this requires manage⯑ment. But Mrs Bull is not inflexible, ſhe may be coaxed—We muſt keep well with her ſer⯑vants—Veils, Madam, veils will do a great deal—and then, as I before obſerved, your la⯑dyſhip has ſo many pretty things to give—Ho⯑nours and preferments—and increaſe of wages; and to the maid-ſervants, ribbons, ſtars and garters, and ſuch like toys; with theſe, you may depend upon it, we ſhall bring Mrs Bull over to our intereſt.’
[38] Nurſe. ‘I have great confidence in your opi⯑nion, Mr Stutter—But if I ſhould be diſappoint⯑ed, what is next to be done?’
Trim. ‘Why then, Madam, there is but one way.—’
Nurſe. ‘What is it, Mr Stutter! what is it?’
Trim. ‘To poiſon, or to ſtab her at once.’
Nurſe ‘Alas! Mr Stutter! that I would do with all my heart, but what would the coroner's inqueſt ſay to it?’
Trim. ‘Pooh, pooh, Madam, leave that to me! I will ſettle that matter without much trouble. In the firſt place, when the murder is done, I will lay down the bloody weapon by her ſide, and ſhall hire ſome phyſicians and ruf⯑fians, the former of whom will ſwear that Mrs. Bull was perfectly out of her mind, and fit on⯑ly for Bedlam. The latter, will ſwear that they ſaw her put an untimely end to her own ex⯑iſtence.’
Nurſe. ‘You quite tranſport me, Mr Stutter, I long to be in at the death! But what will Bull ſay to all this—perhaps he will ride reſtive and have the matter fully inveſtigated?’
[39] Trim. ‘BULL, Madam—Lord, how little your ladyſhip is acquainted with the character of Bull! I will engage to convince him, that his wife was not faithful to his bed, that to my certain knowledge ſhe had been too familiar with, and too fond of, both Boreas and Renard—that ſhe had a ſtrong propenſity to your portly corpulent men, like John himſelf, and that ſhe was often heard to confeſs, that there was no reſiſting the perſuaſive eloquence of either of her two favorites. Bull, who is naturally abun⯑dantly credulous, will give ear to all this; and I ſhall confirm his ſuſpicions by a thouſand circumſtances—So that I doubt not but he will ſoon damn her to Hell, for an abominable ſtrumpet, and think himſelf extremely lucky in having got rid of her.’
Nurſe. ‘That is a very happy idea, beſides I have bethought myſelf of a way to conciliate John's affections and good wiſhes, and to rouſe his apprehenſions. For you know, couſin, though I have the moſt ſovereign con⯑tempt for this great bluſtering Oaf, yet I have always pretended vaſt regard and affection for him, and great zeal for his welfare. Now I doubt not but he is compleatly gulled by my profeſſions, and as he is a good natured beaſt, I have great reaſon to think that he has a ten⯑derneſs [40] and good-will towards me. Taking advantage of theſe, I'll give it out, that being totally diſguſted with the inſolent behaviour and contumely of Mrs Bull, that I have come to the determination to quit his family for good, and never more to ſet foot within his door. I'll go further, for I ll have a boat ordered to come to Bullock's Hatch Stairs, as if I was ready to ſet off. God knows I have no ſuch intention, but I know this will move John, and many of his old ſervants will take the alarm, and begin ſeriouſly to regret my departure, fearing that matters may go worſe without me.’
‘Their compaſſion and their fears once up, we may then venture to do with Mrs Bull what we pleaſe; and I am convinced we may then get all inqueſt concerning her madneſs and death, properly made up.—’
Trim. ‘A moſt admirable plan indeed, Ma⯑dam; your ladyſhip has hit this off wonderful⯑ly well; you ladies have more invention at theſe little ſtrokes of intrigue, than we men have: But now we are upon theſe ſubjects, will you permit me to ask your ladyſhip if you have any other cauſe of reſentment to the preſent ſet of ſervants, beſide the attempt they have now made to deprive you of your uſual influence?’
[41] Nurſe. ‘Yes, ſurely, Mr Stutter, I have many good reaſons for the rooted averſion I bear them. Did they not come in, in a manner, ſelf-appointed, through the influence of Mrs. Bull? Do you think a woman of my dignity ought to bear that interference with my autho⯑rity? But this is not all—Were they not men of abilities, in whom John and his whole family placed great confidence, and were they not determined to do what was right and uſe⯑ful, without implicitly obeying my commands? Could any mortal in my ſituation, bear this?’
Trim. ‘Abominable indeed, Madam!—But Boreas was ſurely accuſtomed to obey you, and would doubtleſs have continued to have done ſo.—’
Nurſe. ‘You are quite miſtaken, couſin. He had already declared he had ſeen his error, re⯑ſpecting the conduct of the Weſt Country Law⯑ſuit, and had determined to act as he judged moſt expedient for the advantage of John's af⯑fairs. You cannot imagine how much I tried him upon this ſubject. I next tried to ſow diſ⯑ſention between him and Renard, but the fellow pretended ſtrict honour, and would not break his promiſe. Curſe on his honour; I think he [42] ſhould have laid that aſide, where I was con⯑cerned. But I will now be even with him and his colleague.—They may plume themſelves now if they pleaſe upon their ſtrict honour!’
Trim. ‘To be ſure it was perfectly ridiculous in them to think of honour—But all the world muſt allow them abilities.—’
Nurſe. ‘Confound their abilities, it is for theſe I hate them. I hate abilities, wherever I find them. They always make men proud and independent, the things in the world I moſt deteſt, in thoſe who fill ſubordinate ſtations.’
Trim. ‘Well, Madam, I can venture to aſſure you, that my couſin Pam, with all his abilities, has not the leaſt idea of dignity or independ⯑ence. I ſhall be quite deceived if your lady⯑ſhip does not find him to have a very mean, ſub⯑miſſive and pliant mind, quite ſuited to your purpoſes. He certainly has ambition, but then it is altogether of that grovelling kind, which does not court power, but merely the ſemblance of it, with leave to boaſt of it; and for that ſupreme indulgence, I promiſe you, he will do every thing you wiſh: He will cringe to old Surly, and even (tho' that's extremely low) I [43] will venture to ſay, he will ſtoop to take any orders from your waiting maid, Mrs Jenky.’
Nurſe. ‘Upon my word, couſin Stutter, you give me a very high character of Mr. Pam, which I do aſſure you impreſſes me with the moſt favourable opinion of the young man. But it is now full time I ſhould give you the meſ⯑ſages to Mrs. Bull's ſervants.’
Extraordinary conſequences of an extraordinary converſation—Pam's plan is burnt by Mrs. Bull—Trim recommends murder—Mrs. Bull is ſaved by the prepoſterous vanity of Pam.
THUS ended this very extraordinary con⯑verſation to the mutual ſatisfaction of both parties, Trim took leave, in order to go and deliver his meſſages to Mrs. Bull's ſervants, and at the ſame time gave them to underſtand, what they were to expect for the ſervice required of them. Some of them, however, fought ſhy upon the ſubject, and ſaid, they had promiſed Renard to take particular care of his papers—Others who were ſincerely attached to Boreas [44] and Renard, ſaid, no harm ſhould come to the papers, if they could poſſibly prevent it. But far the greateſt part of them being naturally of the moſt accommodating turn of mind, took Trim aſide, and told him not to give himſelf any further trouble, for tho' they had promiſed Renard to take care of his plan, yet they had ſuch reſpect for the nurſe's opinion in all theſe matters—that he might reſt aſſured, the plan ſhould never more be ſeen in that apartment.
Trim was now perfectly overjoyed. He re⯑turned the following night—by the ſame dark path, to the nurſe's apartment, carrying along with him his couſin Pam, who was now made ſteward, in the room of Mr. Whigman; and Trim Stutter, for his good ſervices, was made one of John's ſecretaries, along with one Tim Simper, a poor cuckoldy kind of a fellow, who knew nothing whatever of buſineſs, but was placed there very mal-a-propos to fill a gap.
It might now be very properly ſaid, that the Nurſe was as happy as a king. She therefore no longer kept any terms with Whigman, or Boreas, or Renard, but was determined to ſend them all a-packing together.
[45] Being however aſhamed of this dirty and de⯑ceitful buſineſs, ſhe would not face the principal, but ſent a meſſage by Trim, deſiring to have the keys of the houſe, compting houſe, cellars, pan⯑try, and larder, &c. delivered up to her, which was immediately complied with by the parties.
Upon hearing of this extraordinary proceed⯑ing, Boreas and Renard, went immediately to Mrs Bull, to enquire the cauſe of it. She declared ſhe knew nothing of the matter, and was as much ſurpriſed as they themſelves had been: Renard complained to her loudly of this ſort of treatment, and ſaid, It was ſingular that people going about their buſineſs with all the attention imaginable, and doing every piece of drudgery, ſhould be undermined by ſecret influence, and back-ſtair viſits, and turned out of doors without a month's warning, or a month's wages, and all this without any rea⯑ſon aſſigned.
Pam now came by order of the Nurſe, to pay his reſpects to Mrs Bull, and to inform her of his promotion. He was prodigiouſly elevated on the occaſion, and was become very high and migh⯑ty, and extremely pompous.—He told Mrs Bull, that the reaſon of the diſmiſſion of John's late ſervants, was their attempt to carry thro' [46] the Eaſt coutury buſineſs, in ſo abſurd a manner, as to ruin the whole of the poor clerks, who had been engaged in that trade, by confiscating their property, and ſeizing their goods and warehouſes, and depriving them not only of their chartered rights, but alſo of their poſſeſ⯑ſions.—But that this was not all, for that John Bull himſelf, was extremely alarmed, conſider⯑ing this only as a prelude to deprive him of all his rights and franchiſes whatſoever—and alſo taking from the Nurſe, the power and patronage which was her due, and which ſhe had ſo long enjoyed in the family, with the univerſal approbation of all good men.—Re⯑nard who ſet by and heard all this harangue, was perfectly aſtoniſhed at ſuch amazing ef⯑frontery and miſrepreſentation, from ſo young a dog—and opening upon him with his uſual ability and eloquence, he ſo belaboured, and beſpattered, and bedeviled him, that Mrs Bull cried ſhame upon him, for a worthleſs young cur; ſhe would have nothing to do with him.—But Pam, who was preſumption and ar⯑rogance perſonified—told Mrs Bull, that he would prepare a plan for regulating the clerks and trade of the Eaſt country, infinitely ſuperior to that of Renard; for it was to have all the effect, without any of the faults.—Accordingly [47] he brought his plan to Mrs Bull, and having read it to her, both Boreas and Renard diſap⯑proved ſo much of it, that Mrs Bull ordered it to be thrown into the fire.—This however did not diſmay our ſtripling—who was now in the ſecret, and knew he had only to brazen it out, till Mrs Bull was diſpatched—Mrs Bull herſelf, knowing the Nurſe's character, and her extreme vindictive diſpoſition, felt ſome fore⯑bodings of her fate, and uſed to communicate her ſuſpicions to Renard, and Boreas, and her other friends.—Nay ſhe even charged Pam to his face, with having ſome evil intentions to⯑wards her.—But, like maſter, like man, they ſay, for Pam was now become a compleat maſter of diſſimulation, and ſwore himſelf black in the face, that there was not the leaſt intention to touch a hair of her head.
Trim, however inſiſted, both with the Nurſe and with Pam, that now or never was the time for diſpatching the good old lady, who he inſiſted would thwart them in all their views, and he declared his fingers were itching for her blood. But Pam, who was young and not yet innured to murder and aſſaſſination, begged of them to ſpare her life, and having a very high opinion of his own eloquence, he ſaid, he would try what that could do, to bring her over to his [48] way of thinking. And truly it muſt be confeſſed, that for an innocent and immaculate young crea⯑ture, yet unhacknied in the ways of men, nobody could ſet about this buſineſs with a better addreſs, or with more forcible or per⯑ſuaſive arguments. But having now all the affairs of his ſtewardſhip upon his hands, it could not be ſuppoſed he could manage every thing by himſelf, and therefore he found it neceſſary to employ agents, to tranſact all thoſe matters of bribery and corruption, which he found it abſolutely neceſſary for him to carry on in order to gain over Mrs Bull's ſervants. And it muſt be allowed, he made a very good choice of men, who were every way qualified for that purpoſe.
Pam's liberal and ingenious plan of bribery and corruption—Character of his principle Agents.
IT is highly neceſſary for the better under⯑ſtanding this my authentic hiſtory, that I ſhould here give a true and faithful character of thoſe two ſingular agents who were ap⯑pointed by young Pam, to the management of all that liberal and generous branch of buſi⯑neſs, [49] which is vulgarly denominated bribery and corruption. This Pam determined, with his uſual noble way of thinking, to carry on upon a far more extenſive and ſolid plan, than had ever before been attempted, even in the golden times of old Robin.
The firſt of his runners in rank and in talents, was, his former maſter Harry Mac-Bumbo. Alias ſtarvation Harry, alias Harry Hurlythrumbo, alias Eaſt country Harry, alias North country Harry—for he was a cunning rogue, and like other deſperados, had taken various names, the better to diſguiſe himſelf, and prevent detection. He had been heretofore in the ſervice of John Bull's own ſiſter Peg, where he had had the run of her kitchen; but finding that fare vaſtly too ſcanty for his eager appetite, and ſeeing nothing but ſtarvation ſtaring him in the face, he was determined to ſhift his ground, and look out for ſomewhat more lucrative. He haſtened therefore to a ſcene of action, much more ſuit⯑able to his talents, and entered into the ſervice of John Bull, and was, by means of his wife, placed under the direction of Boreas, during his ſtewardſhip. Mac-Bumbo, who was a ſly buſtling fellow, ſoon recommended himſelf to Boreas, by aſſiduity, activity and zeal, and was [50] by him liberally rewarded for his trouble, inſo⯑much, that Harry vowed attachment to his be⯑nefactor for life, an oath he always readily made on ſuch occaſions.
When Malagrida ſuceeded to the ſtewardſhip, he paid his court very ſucceſsfully to him, who finding him uſeful and ready at all ſorts of work, and that if well paid, he would turn his hand to any thing, be it ever ſo dirty, he con⯑tinued him in the counting-houſe, and gave him a very ſnug birth. For which, as before, he ſwore an attachment for life, to Malagrida.
When Malagrida was diſmiſſed by Mrs Bull, for his abominable compromiſe, as we have before related, Mac-Bumbo did not think he was likely to be taken much notice of in fu⯑ture, either by Boreas or Renard, ſeeing that they knew him, and knew exactly by what ſteerage he ſhaped his courſe. He therefore pitched upon young Pam for his future patron, to whom he once more ſold himſelf for life, ſoul and body, as thinking Pam ſtood well with the Nurſe, and truſting that this was far the ſureſt and neareſt road, to preſent pay and good quarters. Mac-Bumbo was a rare talkative fellow in his northern jargon, and diſcourſed with great apparent manlineſs, openneſs, and [51] boldneſs, which was altogether to be attributed to manner, for at bottom, he was falſe and hol⯑low. He certainly had conſiderable talents, but they were accompanied with grat raſhneſs, im⯑prudence and precipitation. He was prodigal in his expences, and diſſolute in his way of life, ſo that he was always in debt, and in difficul⯑ties—but as he could not live without his plea⯑ſures, he was glad to procure them at any price. Money therefore he muſt have, and it was his eſtabliſhed maxim, ‘"No pay no ſwiſs."’ It was no wonder then, if Mac-Bumbo, always devoted himſelf to the beſt bidder. Pam, tho' yet unback⯑nied in the ways of men, plainly perceived that Mac-Bumbo was likely to be damned uſeful, where much dirty work was to be done.
Nor was Pam leſs ſucceſsful in his choice of a ſecond agent. A man, whom hiſtory, ſenſi⯑ble of her own dignity, ſtoops with incredible reluctance to deſcribe. The meanneſs of his mind could only be equalled by the lowneſs of his birth. His progenitor was a melter of tal⯑low. He was reared in the ſervice of a famous ſhip-builder, and never in any tranſaction in his life loſt ſight of a job. He was recom⯑mended to Boreas by his former maſter, but his gratitude to him for that ſervice, never ſat [52] heavy on his ſtomach. He improved his op⯑portunities under Boreas, to great advantage. For he being ſteward in the time of the law-ſuit, when great ſums were annually expended, there was much money to be borrowed—great fees to be paid to counſel—great bills to attor⯑neys, open table was kept for them, and this occaſioned a vaſt expence in cooks, ſcullions, firing, and God knows what all.—Nothing of this immenſe detail eſcaped the jobbing vigi⯑lance of Jack the Rat-catcher, for that was his name and deſignation. He uſed to ſweat every guinea that paſſed through his hands; and much good bread and butter, cheeſe and beer, did he make away with. Beſides, it was ſhrewdly ſuſ⯑pected, that he run ſnips with all the butchers, bakers, brewers, brokers, and contractors of the times, till he acquired a fortune, more than Miniſterial.
Renard, when in office, wanted very much to have enquired into the ſtate of this man's ill⯑gotten gains, but Boreas, from friendſhip, inter⯑fered and prevented it. As to Jack himſelf, he roſe up before Mrs Bull, and her whole com⯑pany, and ſwore upon the holy Evangeliſts, that he had only pocketed a very ſmall ſum, which he ſaid he had ſcraped together by great penu⯑ry [53] and attention. And this he did with, what the Iriſh call, a very pretty preſence of mind, at the ſame time that almoſt every body preſent, knew he was living in the greateſt ſplendor and profuſion. Whether Mrs Bull really gave much credit to his aſſertions, I never could learn, but this I know, that few beſides believed him. However, he was ably defended by Boreas, for whoſe veracity and diſintereſtedneſs, Mrs Bull had the higheſt reſpect. But Jack, like a com⯑pleat ſcoundrel, lived to turn tail on his Ma⯑ker, and betray his liberal benefactor. He had however, found means to ingratiate himſelf much with the nurſe, and had received from her ſome marks of her favour.
Mrs Bull proves refractory notwithſtanding all the artifices of Mac-Bumbo, and Jack the Rat-catcher—An altercation takes place between her and the Nurſe—A meeting of mutual friends is held at the Old Wreſtlers—which breaks up re infecta—Alarm of Mrs Bull—Is comforted by Boreas and Renard—John reaſons on the ſtate of affairs—The boat trick is tried without effect.
SUCH were the runners now in the ſervice of Pam, and he employed them accord⯑ing [54] to their genius and talents. Finding Mrs. Bull ſtrongly bent againſt his appointment to the Stewardſhip, as conſidering him a mere School-boy, inexperienced in buſineſs, book-keep⯑ing, and accounts, and without knowledge of mankind; he was however, determined, if poſ⯑ſible, to win her over to his ſide, and ſo ſet Mac Bumbo and Jack, to work to corrupt all her ſer⯑vants, by foul or by fair means. Some they bribed, others they intimidated, and to ſome they promiſed little annuities for life, or poſts, or ribbons, or ſtars, or white wands, and ſuch like baubles, which were all to be furniſhed by the Nurſe, who had a neat aſſortment of this kind of Gew-gaws. This, to manly minds, may appear a ſpecies of corruption that could but little avail; but it ſhould be remembered, that they were not ill adapted to the maid-ſervants, and other low cattle, about Mrs Bull's family.
However, all this could not move Mrs Bull, who continued inflexible in ſpite of every argu⯑ment that could be uſed with her ſervants, or that her ſervants could uſe with her.
At laſt it came to very ſevere heart-burnings between her and the Nurſe, who complained grievouſly that Mrs. Bull was of a moſt incroach⯑ing diſpoſition, for it has been her province, [55] time out of mind, to appoint John's domeſticks, and that now Mrs. Bull wanted moſt unwarrant⯑ably to arrogate the whole power to herſelf. Be⯑ſides, ſays ſhe, what fault can ſhe find with the young man I have appointed, has ſhe any crime to lay to his charge? if ſhe has, let her name it.
On the other hand, Mrs. Bull proteſted, that ſhe did not wiſh to encroach on the Nurſe s pro⯑vince of appointing the ſervants, on the con⯑trary, it would be to her a very troubleſome and a very invidious taſk; but at the ſame time ſhe was obliged to keep the purſe and to lay out John's caſh to the beſt advantage, and with the greateſt management and oeconomy; ſhe therefore thought it would be very hard indeed, if ſhe had not at leaſt a negative voice, and a power of repreſenting her opinion about new ſer⯑vants, and of ſaying, ſuch a perſon will never do, I cannot truſt him—which is, ſays ſhe, all I alledge with reſpect to Pam, who tho' I do not charge with any crime, yet, I muſt, and do inſiſt upon it, that I cannot put con⯑fidence in him—in ſhort he is too young and inexperienced, he is a mere ſchool-boy, who can know nothing of men or of affairs.—Now tho' I cannot truſt to this boy, ſurely I do not mean to name any body in his place, let the [56] Nurſe chooſe whom ſhe pleaſes, and if I think he is really qualified for the management of John's affairs, I am ſure I ſhall raiſe no objec⯑tion whatever. But where there is many to chooſe from, I confeſs I ſhould be very ſorry to ſee a very bad choice made.
Such was the ſtile in which both parties talked of each other, and as it always happens on ſuch occaſions, the more they talked, the more they became irritated; at length Mrs Bull was adviſed by her friends to write a civil letter to the Nurſe, to explain her ſentiments at large. This ſhe did in a very polite manner, but the Nurſe (as her temper dictated) was as obſtinate as a mule, and would not yield a jot. She however, thought it requiſite to give a civil anſwer to Mrs. Bull's letter, which ſhe did in the moſt ſhufling and deceitful language.—Some mutual friends then interpoſed, and by various meetings at the Old Wreſtlers, tried to accommodate matters between the parties, but this alſo failed of ſucceſs, for they could get nothing out of the Nurſe, but equivocal propo⯑ſitions couched in the moſt obſcure terms.
It was then the good old lady Mrs Bull be⯑gan ſeriouſly to apprehend danger to herſelf, and communicated her ideas thereon to Boreas [57] and Renard—who both aſſured her, ſhe had no⯑thing to fear at preſent, becauſe both the Nurſe and Pam, knew that her life was of the greateſt im⯑portance to her huſband, and to the exiſtence of the whole family.—For ſhe muſt ſurely know that ſhe had in her poſſeſſion a ſum of money, which could not be touched or diſpoſed of, without her conſent and approbation, which ſum, was abſolutely neceſſary to ſave John from immediate bankruptcy.
Beſides, ſaid they, you have another hold over the Nurſe and Pam, which is the arrears due to the counſel and lawyers, and the ſettle⯑ment of their buſineſs, which it is well known they require annually, which with their other preſſing demands, cannot be finally adjuſted without your conſent and approbation, and who in caſe of any delay or want of punctuality in their payment and ſuch like, would bring both the Nurſe and John himſelf over the coals in the twinkling of an eye—You may therefore depend upon it, nothing can be attempted againſt your life, while you wield theſe wea⯑pons in your own hand.
All this while, John who had heard of this miff, and who had not at firſt concerned himſelf much about it, thinking it only a fooliſh ſquab⯑ble [58] between two old women, began now to look upon it as a more ſerious matter than he was aware of, and felt rather uneaſy about it. To be ſure, quoth John, Mrs Bull, is my lawful wife, and as ſuch is my repreſentative in this family, and is entitled to the reſpect and atten⯑tion of the beſt of them. But at the ſame time, I would not have the Nurſe maltreated, or de⯑graded neither. She's an old friend, and I muſt not ſee her wronged, but I know ſhe's damned obſtinate, when ſhe takes any freak in her head. O as for that, one might as well try to move the great Germanic empire.—But continued he, I don't like this huge familiarity between my wife and Boreas, and ſtill worſe, her late goſ⯑ſipings with this ſame ſquire Renard.—Hang it, I am not naturally jealous neither, but yet there is a wonderful ſort of a flirtation goes on in that quarter—poh, poh, it cannot be, my wife is too old, and too ſedate to think of theſe pranks in her old days.—But damn it, who knows, ſhe may ſtill have a colt's tooth in her head, I did get ſuch a hint from one of my beſt friends, and one who I am ſure wiſhes me well.
Juſt as John was running over a variety of circumſtances, pro and con, in his own mind, [59] and trying which way the balance inclined, the ſcale of ſuſpicion ſeeming rather to propon⯑derate—His lucubrations were all at once in⯑terrupted by a flying report that there was a boat gone up to the ſtairs, at Bullock's-hatch, in order to take the Nurſe, and all her luggage aboard, that ſhe might go home to her own native country—John's uneaſineſs and appre⯑henſions, were rather increaſed upon this, how⯑ever he plucked up a ſpirit, and obſerved, That if ſhe was tired of him and his family, ſhe might go, he would keep the boy George, who he was very ſure, would be glad to ſtay with him. This being faithfully reported to the Nurſe, nettled the old woman not a little—And tho' ſhe laid aſide all thoughts of carrying the boat trick any farther, leſt it ſhould be carried too far—yet there were other ſtratagems in ſtore, and more artillery to be played off.
Jemmy Mac-Oſſian, is put at the head of a gang of Thieves—He propogates falſhoods as groſs and palpable as the father that begat them.—Some curious anecdotes of his life, character and converſation.—Mrs Rumour informs John of his Wife's death.
THE next trick to be tried, was to have a gang of lying, prating thieves, who were to diſperſe themſelves in the coffee-houſes, taverns and ale-houſes, and wherever John was to be ſeen, and there to drum it eternally in his ears, as how Renard had been ſeen with Mrs. Bull at all hours of the night, and as how he had been over-heard propoſing to her to break open the ſtrong room, and make off with John's title-deeds, and as how ſhe being too great with Renard, did not ſeem to object—and alſo as how they had ſometimes with them, a long robe-man, who encouraged them in this plan, by telling them, That title-deeds, and even Mag⯑na Farta itſelſ, were nothing to ſignify, for that they were only pieces of parchment with ſeals dangling to the ends of them.—All this curious fabrication of falſhood, miſrepreſentation and [61] miſchief, was put under the direction of one Jemmy Mac Oſſian, a very cunning crafty loon as ever ſiſter Peg bred in her garret. His father had been catched, tried and hanged, for mal⯑practices, and maroding on the outſkirts of John's lands.—Young Hopeful, had been brought up a ſcholar, and taught his bare bottomed compa⯑triots, greek and latin, at 2s. Scotch, per Quar⯑ter. Being however a ſtout lad, and puſhing his fortune, he made his way into John's kitchen, where he fattened on ſippets ſoaked in the drip⯑ping pan, which he got from the maids for writing ſongs and talking baudy with them. At laſt he felt a ſtrong itch to tranſlate his native bare broad Erſe, into a good Engliſh dreſs;—he came now to carry his head a little higher, and got acquainted with ſome of the clerks of the counting-houſe, particularly Jack the Ratcatcher, who employed him to write briefs for the coun⯑ſel in the Weſt country law-ſuit. At length, be⯑ing always awake to his own intereſt, he got himſelf foiſted into an Eaſt country agency, by which means he acquired great wealth, and was one of thoſe who dreaded nothing ſo much as the regulation of thoſe affairs by which an end might be put to pilfering, peculation and per⯑fidy.—In all of which he was too deeply inter⯑eſted [62] and too ſuccefsfully engaged.—This was the Captain of that band of infamous ſtory⯑tellers, who were now employed by Trim and Pam, to ſpread the alarm to John, and ſo induſ⯑trious were they, and ſo often did they repeat their fabrications, that a perſon leſs credulous than John, would have given ſome credit to them. But it was not John's character to be duped by halves, when he was gulled, he was moſt compleatly ſo; and on this occaſion, Mac-Oſſian, and his gang, were much an over-match for him. Upon hearing the ſame thing repeat⯑ed over and over again in every place—with⯑out conſidering the probability of what was ſo boldly and ſo roundly aſſerted.—John exclaim⯑ed, By God, what every body ſays muſt be true. I did ſuſpect, ſays he, that there was ſome damned villiany going on, and now the matter is come out as clear as day—. Well, I do ſay it is impoſſible to know womankind, I thought I could have truſted my wife with my honour, with my puiſe, with every thing dear to me; and here I find that ſhe and Renard, were laying their plan to cuckold me in my own houſe, and then to run off with my title-deeds.—Ah John Bull, John Bull, you have made a narrow eſcape: Lord, Lord! how deceitful is woman!—Nobody looks half ſo compoſed or ſo decent, [63] ſo meek, or ſo motherly, as my wife—and yet at her time of life to go aſtray; well well, this ſhews what opportunity and importunity will do with womankind!
Juſt as John had pronounced this wiſe obſer⯑vation—He was accoſted by old Mother Ru⯑mour, who kept the Coffee-houſe, and who ci⯑villy aſked him, if his Worſhip had heard that Mrs Bull was dead—Dead, ſays John, what my wife—Mrs Bull, dead! Yes, replied Mrs Ru⯑mour, an't pleaſe your Worſhip, your wife Mrs Bull, is certainly as dead as Harry the VIIIth. Why you aſtoniſh me, ſays John, ſhe was in perfect health laſt night, what did ſhe die of? Nay, ſir, as for the matter of that, ſaid Mrs Ru⯑mour, to be ſure there are various and ſundry reports concerning this affair, ſome ſay ſhe died of a poplectic fit; ſome ſay that the poor wo⯑man was beſide herſelf, and that ſhe permitted a fellow of the ſea upon her own body.—Odds bodikins, quoth John, I am afraid it was a fel⯑low of the land, that ſhe permitted on her own body!—Be that as it may, I muſt go and en⯑quire into this very ſingular and critical event.
A true narrative of Mrs Bull's tragical exit, with the unhappy fate of her favourite ſiſter.—Some remarks on her daughter, and a ſketch of her will.—A curious account of the Coroner, his in⯑queſt and verdict.
JOHN BULL, was not in that humour at preſent to be much grieved at the death of his wife, who as we have above related, he began to harbour a very ſo ſo opinion of. He therefore gave himſelf but little trouble to find out the cauſe of her ſudden departure, and of her ſiſter's misfortune, a cataſtrophe which did not ſeem to affect him more than it does the common run of faſhionable huſbands.
This however, is an event, of which we, as an authentic hiſtorian of the res geſtae of thoſe times, cannot omit giving a moſt circumſtan⯑tial account, as faithfully and as correctly as it [65] been wanted to us on the great tide of contem⯑porary writers.
The Nurſe, Trim, and Pam, were now con⯑vinced from experience, that Mrs. Bull was far too honeſt, too diſintereſted, and too faithful to her huſband, to allow herſelf to be detached from, what ſhe thought, his real good. They therefore determined, without further delibera⯑tion, to bring her to an untimely end. But firſt it was found abſolutely neceſſary to get her to ſettle the two points above mentioned.—For this purpoſe they choſe to diſſemble their ha⯑tred, and even went ſo far as to cajole the good woman, a piece of deceit and duplicity which coſt none of them very dear.—A young friend of Pam's, of whom Mrs. Bull was known to have a good opinion, was now charged with a meſſage to her, when aſſurances paſſed of the Nurſe's great regard for her, and how far it was from her thoughts to have any bad intentions towards her, with a thouſand ſuch friendly ex⯑preſſions.—
It is very difficult to ſay what paſſes in any body's mind on moſt occaſions. But as Mrs. Bull was a very ſenſible woman, with an un⯑common ſhare of penetration, we think it more than probable, that ſhe was not altogether [66] blinded by thoſe profeſſions.—However, they certainly made a great impreſſion, but what, with, her made a much greater, was the very nice and critical ſtate of John's credit, which muſt have ſuffered an irrecoverable ſhock, if Mrs Bull had not given her conſent to the pay⯑ment of thoſe ſums of money, which now lay at her diſpoſal. And further, ſhe dreaded extremely the conſequences of not ſatisfying the counſel, and other law folks, lately employed in her long vexatious ſuit, for ſhe well knew that this ſort of people could not be put off, but upon the leaſt demur, might bring an action of treſpaſs againſt John. Theſe conſiderations, with the aſſurances given by Pam, and his friends, made her at length come to the fatal reſolution of parting with her own ſecurity; and no ſooner was that done, but meaſures were inſtantly con⯑certed between the Nurſe, Trim, and Pam, how and at what time the horrible deed ſhould be perpetrated. All this being fixed, the Nurſe ſent word that ſhe was coming to wait upon Mrs Bull, about buſineſs of conſequence. She went accordingly, dreſſed out in great parade, and having talked over the buſineſs in the uſual way—the Nurſe, before ſhe retired, whiſpered to Surly, who was near her, upon which he ſtep⯑ping forward and pulling forth a mortal inſtru⯑ment, [67] at one blow put a period to the exiſtence of the beſt of wives.—The bloody ſcene did not end here, for there was in the room at the time a younger and favourite ſiſter of Mrs Bull's—Miſs Darling Priviledge, who ſeeing the fatal blow aimed, run to embrace and protect her ſiſter. To her the murderers imagined John was extremely attached, and that ſhe would do every thing in her power to prompt him to view this execrable tranſaction in its true colours, and to puniſh it with ſeverity. For this reaſon it was, that the Nurſe determined to get rid of her alſo. Beſides ſhe knew that this young la⯑dy had been very inſtrumental in inſtigating Mrs Bull, to reſiſt her wiſhes. She therefore, im⯑preſſed with the deepeſt reſentment, and hoping at once to lay theſe formidable foes proſtrate at her feet, drew from her breaſt, a Stiletto, with which, ruſhing eagerly upon the mild and bloom⯑ing maid, ſhe plunged the dreadful weapon in⯑to her lovely boſom. She fell upon the body of her expiring ſiſter, where ſwooning away, ſhe was thought to be dead by every perſon pre⯑ſent—and ſuch a report was univerſally propa⯑gated; however ſhe was afterwards found with ſome ſigns of life, and being privately conveyed to the country, her friends began to entertain hopes that her weakneſs was occaſioned only by [68] loſs of blood, and that with ſkill and care, ſhe might yet be recovered from the dreadful ef⯑fects of that ſtunning blow which ſhe had received.
Thus fell the unfortunate Mrs Bull, one of the beſt of women, who had beſtowed true pains to retrieve her huſband's embarraſſed af⯑fairs, and to reſtore them to their uſual flour⯑iſhing condition, to which, there is no doubt but ſhe would have greatly contributed, had ſhe not thus fallen a Martyr to the vindictive diſ⯑poſition and ruling paſſion of the Nurſe.
Mrs Bull, left behind her, one daughter, named Reformia; who, tho' not a beauty, was what may properly be called a bouncing girl; ſhe had ſeveral admirers, of whom we ſhall have occaſion to ſpeak more fully hereafter.
Mrs Bull bequeathed to this young lady, all the ſavings ſhe had made, in the regulating and ſettling of John's affairs. This patrimony was very differently ſpoken of, ſome calling it a very ample fortune, and others, perhaps with more juſtice, alledging that it was a very incon⯑ſiderable ſum.
Mrs Bull, together with her bleſſing, be⯑queathed to John, a caſe of choice cordials, [69] which ſhe alledged he would have great occa⯑ſion for, when ſhe was no more. What the particular virtues of theſe cordials were, we have never been able to learn.
The coroner's inqueſt was now come to ſit on the body of the defunct. The coroner him⯑ſelf was a perſon of notorious infamy, and therefore extremely fit for the preſent purpoſe.—His name was Lungs, he was a Mountebank, and in his travels thro' foreign countries, he had acquired all the effrontery, and all the gri⯑mace and jeſticulation of that pleaſant pro⯑feſſion—From profeſſional habit, he was ex⯑tremely addicted to ſpeechifying on all occa⯑ſions—and as his contortions and writhings, were ridiculous in the extreme—nobody, who ſaw him could refrain from laughter. But the deriſion and the contempt of the croud, made no impreſſion upon his brazen countenance, or callous mind, which was dipt in gaul, and ſteept in depravity to the very brim. There was no ſpecies of vice he was not capable of, ſo he could but guard himſelf againſt the anni⯑madverſion of the law. If a murderer was wanted, Lungs was the man to perpetrate ſuch a crime, in the moſt hidden manner, and with the moſt ſubtile poiſons. Was a perjured evidence, required, to bolſter up a bad cauſe, [70] Lungs was the man, who for money, would go compleatly through with it, and ſtop at no⯑nothing. In ſhort, his mind was formed for every thing baſe and mean, and for every thing deteſtable. This wretch, had already received his cue from Pam, to whom he was ſome how allied—and having packed his inqueſt, and called for evidence, properly inſtructed, they brought in their verdict, reſpecting Mrs Bull, felo de ſe; and taking it for granted her ſiſter-alſo was dead, they thought it proper to bring that in lunacy.—Improbable as theſe facts might ap⯑pear to every judicious perſon, yet certain it is that John Bull either did give faith to them, or ſeemed ſo to do.
The Nurſe is taken ill. Is cured by a glyſter of Pam's preſcribing—The ſevere duty of Mrs Jenky, the waiting maid—Critical obſervation of the hiſtorian.
I Have already obſerved, that the impatience which had ſeized the Nurſe to get rid of ſer⯑vants, who, were not altogether of her own chooſing, but who had been ſtrongly recom⯑mended [71] by the late Mrs Bull—and alſo that ex⯑treme diſguſt and rage, which ſhe had felt, at the reſiſtence made by Mrs Bull, to her ap⯑pointment of Pam, had ſo preyed upon her conſtitution, that ſhe was for ſometime labour⯑ing under the dreadful effects of a lingering and bileous fever.—This increaſing with the irritation of freſh events, had rendered her ex⯑tremely coſtive and bound in the belly. Nor could ſhe ever be prevailed upon during the ſervitude of Mr Whigman, or his friends, to take proper medicines for her complaints.
The late ſudden changes, which ſhe had ſo artfully contrived, and ſo outrageouſly accom⯑pliſhed, had occaſioned a revulſion in her whole frame, and Pam ſeeing this, encouraged the change of habit, by a glyſter made up after a quack receipt, of his father's.—This coming powerfully in aid of the natural revulſion above⯑mentioned, failed not to procure her moſt copious and fetid evacuations, which her phyſi⯑cian very ſagaciouſly foretold, muſt do her a great deal of ſervice. Indeed ſuch was the un⯑common abundance of putrid and corrupted matter that flowed from this noxious ſource, that her apartment ſtunk moſt infamouſly in the no⯑ſes of every one, who had any ſenſe of ſmelling. [72] And to that degree was the ſtench of corrupted, corruptible and contagious faeces, over the whole houſe, that it was almoſt inſufferable in Mrs Bull's apartments, as well as in the Nurſe's, and abſolutely peſtilential, from top to bottom of the back ſtairs. John himſelf could not but be ſenſible of it, but at this time, the Nurſe and the young quack, Pam, ſtood ſo very high in his good graces, that it paſſed for little more than a ſtrong, and not unpleaſant haut-gout, with poor John, who never was very remarka⯑ble for having a good noſe, or for looking a great way before it, and who on this occaſion did not foreſee the very bad effects and infecti⯑ous diſtemper, which ſuch a nuiſance, might one day create in the family.—But to return to the Nurſe, who we left upon her cloſe-ſtool—The heat of the matter thus evacuated, was ſo great, and in ſuch abundance, that it cauſed a wonderful irritation, in the orrifice and circum⯑jacent parts. So that the phyſician, recom⯑mended the proper application of almond oil, and other emolients, to ſoften and cool the parts. Theſe were adminiſtered with great tenderneſs, and admirable addreſs, by the wait⯑ing maid, Mrs Jenky, who, tho' a tall awkward figure, ſtooped to this operation, with a vaſt deal of grace and deterity.—But alas! all [73] this would not do, the heat and irritation en⯑creaſing, the parts became extremely tender and delicate, and an inflamation enſuing, it was thought abſolutely neceſſary that Mrs Jenky ſhould lick with her tongue, the place affected, a taſk which ſhe undertook, and bent her long back to perform, with a ſuppleneſs and plya⯑bility which excited admiration in every be⯑holder. It was however alledged, that Mrs Jenky, tho' long accuſtomed to the dirtieſt of work, did grudge her labour in conveying away this nauſeous commodity, which it is ſaid was by her handed privately to young Pam, who ſaw it ſlyly diſpoſed of, in a naſty ſink be⯑longing to Mrs Bull's upper apartment.
We hope we ſhall be excuſed, this ſhort di⯑greſſion from the thread of our hiſtory, in order to deſcribe the nature of the Nurſe's complaints, which we have been more particular in narrat⯑ing, as trivial circumſtances of this nature, of⯑ten ſerve to illuſtrate the ſtate of affairs in pri⯑vate families, better and more diſtinctly, than nobler or more ſplendid events.
John goes to pay the Nurſe a viſit, and congratu⯑lates her, upon the diſmiſſion of his late ſer⯑vants—She talks to John about the death of Mrs Bull—Praiſes his preſent ſervants—Ad⯑viſes him to think of looking out for another Wife.—And propoſes a match which ſhe thinks would fit him to a hair.
JOHN now thought, that ſeeing all exte⯑rior forms reſpecting his late Wife, were now fully ſatisfied, that he might go and wait on the Nurſe in her own apartment. Accord⯑ingly away ſteps John, and having tapped gently at the door, was bid to walk in.—John made one of his beſt bows to the Nurſe, and ſhe on her part affected prodigious kindneſs and cordiallity to John, and truly it was no wonder, for never had mortal ſo devoted himſelf and his intereſt ſo implicitly and compleatly to the will, and inclinations and paſſions of another, as John Bull had done on this occaſion, to thoſe of his Nurſe.
John up and told his Nurſe, as how he was come after his late loſs, to congratulate the [75] Nurſe, upon the change of his late abominable ſervants, whoſe roguery and treachery were ſo well known, that it made it very unneceſſary for him to ſay any thing more upon the ſubject, but only to return her his beſt thanks, for the maternal and tender care, ſhe had taken of his neareſt and deareſt concerns.
On the other hand, the Nurſe, who had a moſt thorough pace contempt for Bull, was however extremely happy at this viſit, becauſe it quite ſilenced all ſuſpicions, and future en⯑quiries and complaints—She therefore aſſured him that next to doing what ſhe reckoned her duty, nothing gave her half ſo much pleaſure, as to find that he approved of her conduct on this occaſion, which ſhe ſaid was the only means left in her power, to ſave the family, the eſtate and title-deeds, which indeed had been in the utmoſt jeopardy, from that lawleſs vagabond crew, which the late Mrs Bull had recommend⯑ed to him. Here John thought it would be but decent in him to clap his dirty handkerchief to his eyes, upon the pretext of wiping away the falling tear.—But the Nurſe let him to know that ſhe thought it very unbecoming in him, to lament the loſs of any perſon, who could recommend and patroniſe ſuch ſervants as his late ones, who could uſe her in ſo rude [76] and ſo brutal a manner, by croſſing her in⯑clinations, in the very thing, which of all others ſhe wiſhed moſt,—the choice of good, and uſeful, and honeſt ſervants, for his family. ‘"You may obſerve,"’ continued the Nurſe, ‘"what infinite pains I have taken on this oc⯑caſion, to ſelect for your buſineſs, the very ableſt, and beſt of men. I have put young Pam at the head of them, becauſe of his great parts and experience in affairs, his vaſt knowledge of mankind, and the purity of his intentions.’
Very true, madam—very true; replied John, young Pam's tender years, and want of oppor⯑tunity to commit any enormous crimes, makes it moſt natural to imagine that he is very ſpotleſs and unhacknied in the ways of men, and as to his experience in affairs, and knowledge of mankind, I think, I ſee in this youth a ſort of premature abilities that I am perſuaded will anſwer my purpoſe vaſtly well, much better indeed than all the boaſted acquirements of riper years—Beſides, he ſeems to have a deal of ſteadineſs and determination.—He won't eaſily be put out, nor does he ſeem to want for a very proper and becomimg confidence in his own talents.
[77] ‘"You are perfectly right, ſaid the Nurſe, I am very ſure, Mr Bull, that both you and I ſhall be well ſatisfied with this young man, of whom I have conceived a very high opinion in⯑deed.—As to your two ſecretaries, I have equal reaſon to be well pleaſed with them; I will in⯑deed fairly confeſs to you, that they are not reckoned men of the moſt ſhining talents, but what of that, they are men who will do what they are ordered without heſitation, which I take to be the firſt rate quality in any ſervant. There are ſome aukward, untaught and unmannerly boobies, who will ſtand and conſider, and pre⯑tend to think for themſelves what is beſt to be done.—I will venture to ſay that the preſent ones are not of that kidney, for as they have no ideas of their own, they will be very ready to hear any that we ſhall ſuggeſt, they will adopt them with eagerneſs, and execute them with pleaſure."’
‘"Indeed, Madam, ſaid John, every thing you ſay, is a new proof of your wiſdom and pene⯑tration. I was fooliſh enough formerly to be a little jealous of your power and influence in my family, but I proteſt I now ſee my own ſtu⯑pidity, and in the mind I am now in, I think I ſhall leave the management of all my affairs to you in future; and having ſuch an excellent [78] woman to take a charge of my domeſtic con⯑cerns, I am ſure, I of all men, have leaſt rea⯑ſon to regret the loſs of my Wife, who by the bye, I have ſome reaſon to believe was no bet⯑ter than ſhe ſhould be.’ ‘"Better, rejoined the Nurſe, ſhe was worſe than it is poſſible for me to paint—a croſs, peeviſh, curſed vixen—with⯑out common ſenſe or common civility. I am ſure ſhe behaved to me in a moſt inſolent, in⯑decent, and diſgraceful manner. I can never think of it without the blood boiling in my veins, and therefore I muſt avoid the ſubject, leaſt I ſhould bring on a freſh fit of my late complaint, which I ſeriouſly believe would have done for me, had it not been for the great ſkill of young Pam, and the greater care and kind offices of mother Jenky, good creature!"’
‘"Well, ſaid John, Madam, let us ſhift this diſagreeable ſubject—we have now all before us, and thank God, you have at length found me a ſet of honeſt and upright men, who will ſerve me with honour and conſcience."’
‘"Aye, ſaid the Nurſe, that I have Mr. Bull, ſo that you may reſt perfectly eaſy, and ſeeing we are now upon theſe domeſtic ſubjects, let me recommend it to you, to have an eye to ſome girl of good family, for your future ſpouſe, and [79] not connect yourſelf, and contaminate your blood with a vulgar, low bred, pitiful, drag⯑gle tailed dowdy, like your laſt Wife.—Your character as a tradeſman, ſtands very high, and though to be ſure your affairs are at preſent ſomewhat embarraſſed, yet you are too young to lay aſide thoughts of matrimony. Beſides, let me tell you, without flattery, that mankind have a good opinion of you, as an honeſt, in⯑duſtrious good natured fellow, who have alrea⯑dy made a good huſband, to a very unworthy match; and who of courſe, will make a good huſband to a girl of family, who might both bring you money and great connexions."’
John could not help ſmiling at this conver⯑ſation; but bruſhing up a little at the compli⯑ments paid him by the Nurſe, he modeſtly ob⯑ſerved, ‘"That ſure no girl of good family and fortune, would think of having ſuch an old fa⯑ſhioned clumſy fellow as himſelf."’
‘"You are miſtaken, ſaid the Nurſe, good huſbands are not ſo eaſily come at now a days, but for God's ſake, let me adviſe you not to think of any future intermarriage with that flaunting, tawdry, trolloping, low-lived family of the Privileges—I am ſure you have had e⯑nough [80] of them to ſicken any man.—Now there is a very fine girl that I have often ſeen at cha⯑pel, who I think would ſuit you prodigiouſly well: a tall; genteel, majeſtic, elegant looking woman, who would do honour to any family; a woman of high birth and faſhion; you will, no doubt, gueſs that I point at the charming Miſs Grace Prerogative."—’
‘"Odds bodikins, quoth John, (who, though no chicken, had yet a colt's tooth in his head) Miſs Prerogative is a charming woman ſure e⯑nough—but would it not have a very ſtrange appearance to the neighbours, for me to make up to a young lady, whoſe family I have always been quarrelling with, as a moſt incroaching, and diſſatisfied ſet of people."’
‘"That is the beſt reaſon in the world, re⯑plied the Nurſe, for your making up to the daughter, for that will ſettle all differences, and heal old ſores."’
‘"By Gingo, I believe you are in the right, Madam, ſaid John, I have a great mind to give her a call to-morrow morning, by way of re⯑connoitring the premiſes."’
[81] ‘"Indeed, ſaid the Nurſe, you are perfectly in the right, there is no time to loſe, for ſo fine a woman, with ſuch genteel connections, cannot be long in the market."’
‘"Well, by the Lord, I'll have a bruſh at her, quoth John, ſo good b'ye to ye, Madam, good b'ye to you."’
Away flung John, and left the Nurſe, as may eaſily be ſuppoſed, in a rapture of joy, ſo that ſhe could not help exclaiming, ‘"By the living God, I don't believe there is upon earth, ſo good natured, or ſo ſtupid a mortal, as John Bull.—I think I have him ſnug, he is compleat⯑ly gulled, compleatly duped, and compleatly be-deviled!"’
John Bull is totally captivated, by the charms of the lovely and lofty Miſs Prerogative—The mar⯑riage ſettlements.—John gives a grand enter⯑tainment—The Nurſe is of the party.—Pam makes the punch.—John gets half ſeas over, is extremely noiſy, and expoſes himſelf to his gueſts. The Nurſe propoſes a Fox-chaſe to John, who readily agrees—and propoſes figuring on a dray-Horſe.
JOHN was not a man who reliſhed any cir⯑cumbendibus, in his mode of acting. He always moved ſtraight forward to his point, without much manoeuvering, an accompliſhment which is now found ſo eſſential towards the forming great modern ſea officers. Having been a Buck in his younger days, he on this occaſion, clapped on a very ſmart ſuit of cloaths, a neat dreſſed perriwig, white ſilk ſtockings, and a moſt exorbitant large pair of buckles, as was the faſhion in thoſe times, and away he marched to ſquire Prerogative's. It is alledged however, that by the way, he felt ſome few compunctions, and qualms of conſcience, as if he had been [83] acting inconſiſtently, with all the former te⯑nor of his conduct. He felt alſo a little gleam of remorſe, at connecting himſelf with a family, which had been at conſtant variance with his former Wife, and all her connections, and who had at times, uſed them in the moſt contumeli⯑ous manner. ‘"Damn me, ſays John, I wiſh after all, that this is not a raſh piece of buſi⯑neſs, I am engaged in; I may perchance, get into a curſed ſcrape here, and yet ſhe is a fine creature too, this bere Miſs Prerogative—a moſt deſirable piece of goods faith, with as tight a leg and foot, as ever a man laid a long ſide of—Well, e'gad it don't ſignify, I can't ſee why I ſhould not pleaſe myſelf, as well as another, a Wife I muſt have, and when I am about it, why ſhould not I indulge my preſent paſſion? I love the girl that is enough,"’
Thus John vindicated his paſſion, by a claſſical quotation, for he had been a ſcholar in his youth, and ſtill retained the recollection of a few latin ſentences, which he ſported on proper occaſions.
We are ſorry to obſerve, that contemporary hiſtorians have left us totally in the dark; as to what paſſed between John and his Miſtreſs, at [84] this firſt interview. Perhaps indeed this may have been an effect of their great judgment and decorum, and they may have choſen to draw a vail over, what it might have been highly improper to diſcloſe.—For to ſay truth, we have heard from undoubted authority—that the young lady in queſtion, was as forward a Piece, as any in the pariſh, and very likely to allow John to take great liberties, even at opening the preliminaries.
Suffice it therefore to ſay, that John was com⯑pleatly enamoured, and very ſoon obtained the fair lady's good graces, as alſo the conſent of parents.—After which, the ſettlements were the only remaining obſtacle in the way to felicity. John therefore, with the Nurſe's advice, and at her [...]tance, appointed three perſons of expe⯑rienced ability, and diſtinguiſhed integrity, to ſu⯑perintend this buſineſs.—Theſe were Mac-Bumbo, Mother Jenky, and Jack the Rat-catcher.—With three ſuch adepts, what buſineſs could prove difficult?—In ſhort, they ſo ſmoothed, en⯑forced, and ſoftened things, that the whole affairs were ſettled, before you could ſay, Jack Ro⯑binſon.
John and the Nurſe, had now appointed the day for the celebration of the Nuptials.—And [85] John and She, had invited all the gueſts, who were vaſtly too numerous to mention.—And a deal of good wholeſome eatables and drink⯑ables there was, according to the faſhion of John s table, which never conſiſted of fricaſſees, and ragouts, and whipt ſyllabubs, like Louis Baboon's—but was a ſolid ſubſtantial, ſteady feed.—The punch was excellent and very nappy, it was of Pam's compoſition, who was accounted a dab at mixing the ingredients—And John be⯑ing in rare ſpirits, drank about pretty freely—At laſt he got very noiſy, and very voiceferous on the occaſion—and ſitting near the Nurſe, he filled her glaſs, till ſhe herſelf, inſpite of all her prudence and decorum, got a little pogy—She then propoſed a hunting match to John, of which diverſion ſhe ſaid, ſhe was diſtractedly fond—Now, ſays ſhe, there is a damned ſly Fox, upon theſe grounds, which I have long been after, and I ſhould have great pleaſure to unkennel, and have a compleat courſe with him; and I war⯑rant you, ſays ſhe, ſnapping her fingers, one day or other I will have the damned rogue, hip and thigh. John proteſted he would be one of the party, and although, ſays he, I have long ſince parted with all my hunters—by George, I will mount my Dray-Horſe, rather than not attend [86] you on ſuch precious ſport. From this time, (and full of this noble idea,) John began to grow moſt damnably drunk, and inſiſted upon ſing⯑ing a hunting ſong, the chorus of which was certainly not the firſt rate-flight of poetical fancy, ‘"Let us cruſh traitor Fox, tally ho, tally ho."’ This he roared ſo confounded loud, and ſo long, and ſo much like a man who was paſſed all pow⯑er of ſentiment, ſenſe or reflection, that many of his gueſts, who were in their ſober ſenſes, were quite diſguſted and ſcandalized at the ri⯑diculous, abſurd, and beaſtly manner, in which he expoſed himſelf, not only to the company, but to all the neighbours, who were perfectly aſtoniſhed at John's childiſhneſs and folly on this occaſion, and holding up their hands, con⯑feſſed, that they never had ſeen him make ſo wretched a figure, in all their lives. The ſober and decent part of the company, now ſlipt off, by degrees, and left the Nurſe and mother Jenky, to put John to bed.
Here the new married couple were, as we ſuppoſe, left in the dark, as we have alſo been by contemporary hiſtorians. Nothing having e⯑ver yet tranſpired reſpecting a conſummation, which was ſo devoutly wiſhed for, by the Nurſe and all her aſſociates.—All therefore that a [87] faithful hiſtorian can do, is to ſupply the de⯑fects of certainty, by the moſt probable con⯑jectures, ſupported by circumſtances.
John Bull was undoubtedly drunk, and a drunken man, cannot be ſuppoſed to be the moſt agreeable bed-fellow, to a young woman of high blood, and warm imagination. Be this as it may—and altho' the young Bride appear⯑ed rather gloomy and diſconcerted on the en⯑ſuing day; yet ſhe had ſo many fine things given her by John and the Nurſe, ſuch dreſſes, ſuch jewels, ſuch laces and ribbons, and fa⯑vours, and other fine things, that in ſhort, ſhe became wonderfully ſatisfied, and elevated with her new ſituation.
The cuſtom that prevailed of chooſing ſervants for John's Wife.—Renard puts up for that honour. Is eagerly oppoſed by the Nurſe and young Pam, the Eaſt country clerks, old Padagra and Pelf, but is as warmly ſupported by moſt of his old friends, and many new acquired ones—Siſter Peg and John's firſt couſin, Paddy Shillaily, both ſtrive to ſerve him, and John himſelf feels a ſincere love and regard for him.—His character, and that of his rival Pam.
IT is highly neceſſary to acquaint my readers with a circumſtance relating to John's family, which perhaps they may never before have heard of, and that is the ſingular cuſtom of chooſing ſervants for Mrs Bull. It is no doubt common in moſt private families for the lady to chooſe her own ſervants. But that was not the caſe in John's where it had been cuſtomary from time immemorial, to leave the choice intirely to the family at large.
Among many who put up for the honor of ſerving Mrs Bull, Renard was one of the moſt conſpicuous, and ſo he went about to ſolicit [89] the vote of every one individual in the houſe. It will no doubt appear extremely ſingular to thoſe who read this extraordinary hiſtory, that not withſtanding the ridiculous and extravagant fancy, John took of blaming of Renard, merely out of complaiſance to the Nurſe and young Pam, yet he could not help loving him ſincerely. There was, to ſay truth, a great ſimilarity in their characters, in many reſpects. For Renard, with the moſt uncommon talents, joined extreme good nature, an openneſs, a frankneſs, and ſin⯑cerity which are extremely engaging.—He was ambitious it is true, but he was very diſin⯑tereſted and careleſs to a fault, about money. Every tranſaction with him, was above board, and he ſtrove not even to conceal his own fol⯑lies. He followed the dictates of his paſſions, and purſued his point, without any diſſimu⯑lation or affectation.
On the other hand, his rival, Pam was artifi⯑cial, from top to toe, every action, every jeſture were the effects of deliberation and ſtudy—His talents were not contemptible, but they were brought into play before they were ripe; and thoſe premature parts, partook ſo much of hardneſs and acerbity, that it ſeemed ex⯑tremely doubtful, if ever they would mellow, ſo [90] as to become fit for any uſeful purpoſe—His great talent, and that indeed, in which he ſhew⯑ed a peculiar felicity, was his collecting, and keeping together a gang of the moſt coſummate ſcoundrels, that ever infeſted any private fa⯑mily—knowing nothing of mankind, he was tempted to ſupply that deficiency, by cunning deceit and duplicity, which in the end cut him up by the roots—He was extremely vain, preſumptuous, and ſelf-ſufficient. Theſe created the moſt compleat arrogance, inſolence, and petulance, ſo that he ſpared neither rank, age, abilities nor experience. Theſe diſguſtful paſ⯑ſions, naturally predominant in haughty minds, were much increaſed by the great notice, and ſudden preferment procured him by the Nurſe—This he attributed wholly to his own ſuperio⯑rity, little thinking that the Nurſe was as cun⯑ning and deceitful as himſelf, and that it was not his abilities that recommended him, but becauſe ſhe knew he was young, and was in great hopes he might be implicitly led in all his conduct by herſelf, and mother Jenky—This was the true cauſe of the preference, and moſt certain it is, that the more mean, the more plyable, the more humble and ſubſervient, the more likely he was to become, and to continue a favorite with the Nurſe, who valued [91] no talents but ſuch as were uſeful to herſelf—who felt no attachments but to thoſe who were devoted to her will, and who never had a friend, ſhe would not ſacrifice or betray, when⯑ever he ſhould differ in opinion from herſelf—or preſume to act contrary to her inclination.
Pam, however, was really not known to John, who had taken him into his ſervice, merely by the Nurſe's recommendation, who ſpoke of him in the higheſt terms, and John when queſtioned by any of his friends about this ridi⯑culous choice, and when they alledged to him, that it was abſolutely impoſſible for a ſchool-boy to manage his complicated affairs—uſed to to reply—‘"It ſignifies not a groat, I have a good opinion of the boy, and he has never yet done any harm, nor has he been guilty of any trick that I know of, and am perſuaded he'll come to underſtand my buſineſs as well as the wiſeſt of them, give him time—give him time, ſays John, he'll do, he'll do—I warrant him."’
But notwithſtanding this ſtrange harum, ſca⯑ram conduct of John's—ſtill he could not for⯑get his old friendſhip for Renard—and there⯑fore he wiſhed to ſee him in his Wife's ſervice, although he had approved of his diſmiſſion [92] from his own—accordingly he aſſiſted him all he could, as did many belonging to ſiſter Peg's family, and alſo to the family of Paddy Shillaily, John's firſt couſin. In ſhort, they ſo buſtled, and ſo laboured, and ſo canvaſſed, that they ſucceeded againſt all the intrigues of the Nurſe, and Pam, and the Eaſt country-clerks, and the old Counts, Padagra, and Pelf—who had joined in order to oppoſe him—But the moſt curious part of the ſtory is, that after Renard had carried his point—Pam, in order to ingratiate himſelf ſtill more with the Nurſe, denied the fact and ſwore manfully, that he was not cho⯑ſen—as did alſo Loyd, the Baker, and ſeveral other perjured vagabonds, who as a cloak to their knavery, pretended great knowledge of old rules and orders—and others again aſſumed a mighty tenderneſs of conſcience—which is the old ſtale pretext of the moſt conſummate rogues and hypocrites.
Notwithſtanding all which Renard, won the day, to the great diſtreſs, and vexation both of the Nurſe and Pam—whoſe character ſuffer⯑ed much by his glaring malicious, and raſcally conduct in this affair. John himſelf who had been ſo compleatly blind-folded, began now to open his eyes to this obſtinate and deceitful ſtrip⯑ling, [93] but he had been too much taken in by him, and had gone too far in his fooliſh admi⯑ration to retreat all of a ſudden, and therefore he found himſelf under the neceſſity of ſtill vindicating him from any bad intentions—but affairs ſoon occurred, which opened his eyes very compleatly, as we ſhall have occaſion to relate more at large, in the ſequel of this moſt uſeful hiſtory, which I verily believe to be the real mother of wiſdom.
Pam, and Strumbolo the Coal Merchant, make love to the late Mrs Bull's daughter Reformia—They are very coldly received.—
I Have before related that the late excellent woman, Mrs Bull, left behind her one daughter, who was, to ſay truth, both a comely, and a bouncing wench, as one could ſet their eyes upon, and being now in the bloom of youth, ſhe failed not to attract a numerous ſuite of admirers.—
I will not pretend to ſay, that theſe no more than other modern lovers, were all paſſionate, and diſintereſted adorers—Far from it, moſt [94] of them had heard of the great ſuppoſed for⯑tune left by her mother's will—and beſides they knew that of late years, ſhe was become a mighty favorite with John himſelf, who had been often heard calling luſtily for her to come and attend him as much as ſhe could.—
This being the caſe, it was naturally enough for thoſe who were deſirous of ingratiating themſelves with John, to make up to his young favourite, and amongſt thoſe who at preſent ſtood forward to recommend themſelves moſt to Mr Bull, was the famous Strumbolo, the coal crimp, a perſon fully blacker in his mind, than in his profeſſion.—He was one of thoſe dull induſtrious plodding fellows who are eternally employed in inveſtigating profoundly the mere⯑eſt trifles, and are never happy but when they are pocking their heads into ſome naſty en⯑quiry about other peoples affairs, and this always under the pretext of preventing John from being impoſed upon—Sometimes he would be going about to ſee how all the ſhirts, ſheets and ſtockings of the family were waſhed, and ſpying with his magnifying glaſs, to ſee if any ſtains were left, or if the laundreſs adhered ſtrictly to her contract. At another time you might ſee Strumbolo buſy in getting warrants to arreſt ſome old and faithful ſervants of [95] John's who had paſſed their days, and riſked their lives in his ſervice—The tryal, and pu⯑niſhment of that ſort of men for little petty offences, and oppreſſing them by the weight of his authority, was a ſupreme delight to Srum⯑bolo, who had a mortal antipathy to that valour and intrepidity in others, which he knew he had not in himſelf—Like an old maid who repines to ſee the young and the gay, in poſ⯑ſeſſion of thoſe enjoyments ſhe can never taſte, and whoſe envy and malice exerts itſelf to embitter their pleaſures.—At another time you might ſee this arch-fiend with a great ſtick in his hand, knocking down, and otherwiſe abu⯑ſing all the poor ſuperannuated penſioners who were worn out in the ſervice of John, and his family, ‘"You damned ſcoundrels, ſays Strum⯑bolo, you coming here, and get your bellies filled, and carry home victuals for your families, and all forſooth upon the ridiculous pretext that you have ſerved the family for ſixty or ſeventy years, and are no longer fit for labour.—A fine reaſon truly, quoth Strumbolo, becauſe I maintain a man twenty years, I muſt perforce maintain him twenty years more, whether I have any uſe for him or no—I'll allow no ſuch abuſes and impo⯑ſitions, go and get your living where you can—You pretend that at your time of life you are not able to work, why the devil then ſhould we pay you for what you cannot do?"’
[96] Then Strumbolo never ſaw a tradeſman ap⯑proach the houſe, but what he would have a ſqueeze at him.—‘"You dog, you, ſays he, you overcharge your bills, I know you do: I could have the ſame buſineſs done for the one hundredth and fifty ſixth part of a penny cheaper than what you have done; you are a very great impoſtor, and I'll have you turned out of your employ⯑ment for ever; you may go and ſtarve, you and your family—But I ſuppoſe you have taken care of that, you have already feathered your neſt, I have been informed by two or three of your neighbours, with whom you have quarrel⯑ed, that you have ſaved money, ſo that you muſt certainly be a very ſad ſcoundrel indeed."’
Now all this time while Strumbolo, was thus grinding the face of the poor, he was pocket⯑ing a very handſome perquiſite by his coal⯑trade, which from every mean, minute, and dirty detail, he was hoarding up, and accumu⯑lating to an amazing ſum, ſo that the fellow who had really the mean mind of a coal crimp, was now become as rich, as a lord.—
Amongſt others of Srumbolo's good qualities, he was a ſtrange wrangling fellow, and loved diſputation and buſtle and buſineſs, ſuch as it was—From this love of buſineſs, he ſometimes [97] led John into needleſs expence, and if any of the family found fault with it, and he ſaw him⯑ſelf in any ſcrape, and that an action was brought againſt him, he had art enough to contrive to pack his jury, and to be choſen foreman himſelf, by which means it was eaſy to ſee that no harm could ever befall him.
This reſpectable perſonage was ſome how or other allied to the Nurſe, by the wrong ſide of the blankets—and it was by means of this con⯑nection that he had been let into his profitable perquiſites—He was himſelf very vain of the connection—But ſhe on the other hand, though ſhe carried fair with him, yet did ſhe hate him moſt cordially.
Strumbolo was exceedingly deſirous of being well with John, a thing which was not very likely to be, for his character was one of thoſe that John moſt deteſted and deſpiſed—But in order to get into his good graces, he now made love to Reformia, with all the aſſiduity, and vigour he was maſter of. Strumbolo was not however of that turn of temper or diſpoſi⯑tion that could make much impreſſion upon a young handſome girl's heart—He was natu⯑rally ſerious rigid, and auſtere, and had nothing [98] like mirth or good humour about him—It is true he could be extremely well bred—but he never exerted his politeneſs ſo much as when wanted to do an injury, to deceive, and betray, or when he was afraid of the reſentment of the perſon he was treating with—A feeling which he was indeed very ſuſceptible of, for nobody had greater apprehenſions about his own perſon⯑al ſafety than Strumbolo, who had been compelled on various occaſions, to make very mean and humiliating ſubmiſſions, rather than expoſe his perſon to a hearty drubbing, which he often had occaſion to dread, but always had an ala⯑crity to ſhun—Now whether Reformia had diſcovered this failing of Strumbolo's, I will not pretend to ſay—Certain it is the fair ſex are very fond of that virtue, which ſeems to be the diſtinguiſhing mark of a manly character, and as there were public proofs, of the infamous cowardice of Strumbolo, all his proſſeſſions of profound admiration, and all his flattery had no effect—However the dog knew what im⯑portunity would do, and therefore he conti⯑nued to lay hold of every occaſion to tell the lady, that ſhe was the moſt perfect beauty in the world, that every body admired her, that he for his part wiſhed to ſee her in every public place, diffuſing her benign influence univerſally [99] over all ranks, and conditions of men, that there was grace in all her ſteps, heaven in her eye, in every geſture, dignity, and love.
Pam too, was a rival lover, but even leſs ſerious, and leſs ſincere, perhaps, than the form⯑er. He was however no leſs deſirous than Strumbolo, to make his court to John Bull, through the young favourite. He therefore made his addreſſes inform, and attacked the fair one with all the pomp of words, for not being a paſſionate admirer, he could better command his expreſſions—and uſed to pour forth her praiſe in words, of ſix-feet long—But alas, his reputation among the ladies, had not quite as many inches in length—Beſides notwithſtand⯑ing the pretended violence of his paſſion, he never went to her alone, but had always ſome friend along with him, as if he had been afraid of too private an interview—ſometimes he car⯑ried along with him, Jack the Rat-catcher—ſometimes Mac-Bumbo, and rather than go alone, he would even take mother Jenky, and what is very odd, while he was diſcourſing his miſtreſs in the moſt lofty expreſſions of admiration, and Eu⯑logy, he was all the while making damned faces apart to his friends, with now and then a ſly wink, and nod, as much as to ſay, don't you [100] believe I am ſerious, this is a mere farce I am carrying on, only to ſecure John's good opinion—But I know the Nurſe hates Reformia, Mrs Bull conſiders her as a ſtep daughter, and has no affection for her, and I myſelf would rather be crucified, than have any thing do with her.
It is ſhrewdly ſuſpected, the young lady ſaw through all this grimace and hypocricy of Pam, and conceived a great diſlike to him, beſides his charcter among the fair ſex, did not ſtand very high, on the contrary, he was rather con⯑ſidered as a frigid friend to the ſex, and one who was too great an admirer of himſelf, ever to make a warm lover, or a kind huſband.—It was likewiſe currently reported, that at this time, John Bull, who was not remarkable for ſeeing farther into an unbored mill-ſtone than his neighbours, began however to perceive, that Pam was only toying with his daughter, merely for the ſake of pleaſing him; and that he was in fact like many others, only a cake and pudding wooer. However, ſuch was John's prepoſſeſſion at this time, or rather his diſlike to appear, to have been compleatly taken in, by this pomp⯑ous and petulant Younker, that rather than expoſe his weakneſs and folly, he choſe to diſ⯑guiſe or conceal his own growing diſguſt.
A ſhort account of John Bull's firſt Couſin, Paddy Shiliaily.—His character.—His ill treatment by John, in his youth.—His good ſenſe, and great care of his eſtate.—He takes advantage of John's long litigation, with his Weſt-country tenantry, to get rid of thoſe ſhackles, John had unjuſtly impoſed upon him.
BEFORE I proceed further, in the hiſtory of John Bull, it is neceſſary I ſhould here in⯑form my courteous reader, that John had a firſt couſin, by the mother's ſide, whoſe name was Paddy Shillaily. He, though ſomewhat young⯑er than John, was educated at the ſame ſchool with him; and together with very good talents, had ſomething infinitely droll about him. He was a very faithful friend, and had on all occa⯑ſions, ſhowed himſelf much attached to his couſin, even in the worſt of times. John who felt himſelf ſtronger than Paddy, had gained a vaſt aſcendency over him, and I muſt confeſs, did not altogether, uſe him with that liberality and gene⯑roſity, which ſo ſtrongly marked his character in his dealings with others. Not but that he would [102] have defended him from the inſults, or abuſe of any other perſon, to the laſt drop of his blood. But on the other hand, he himſelf aſ⯑ſumed the privilege of mal-treating, and great⯑ly oppreſſing Paddy, and ſo buffeted, and cruſh⯑ed him, and knocked him about, that it was the opinion of every body, that he had in ſome meaſure, ſtunted the poor lad's growth, and had prevented him from applying with ſpirit, to his book, and to his profeſſion, which was ſomewhat in the nature of John's own line, in the manufacturing branch.
Notwithſtanding all this, however, Paddy turned out a fine promiſing lad. He was as brave as ſteel, and would rather have a quar⯑rel upon his hands, than otherwiſe. He was a good ſcholar, and a very ſenſible man, but had a queer defect in his opticks, which often pre⯑vented him from ſeeing his object very correctly, or in its proper point of view.
The ſame inaccuracy was remarkable in his modes of expreſſion, and Paddy's elocution was often ſo embarraſſed, ſo perplexed, and blun⯑dering, that it frequently afforded much mirth and fun to his companions. But it was very neceſſary for them, to make it appear, that they were laughing with him, and not at him— [103] otherwiſe they muſt take the conſequences.—Paddy's ſentences, like the oracles of Delphi, would generally admit of various interpreta⯑tions: but it truly might be ſaid of him, that if his utterance was bad, his meaning was good. He had a ſpecies of ſarcaſtic wit, peculiar to himſelf, and his vein of humour, however plea⯑ſant, was ſeldom without its ſting. He was by nature prone to be ſomewhat rude, boiſter⯑ous and forward, nor were an over diffidence or baſhfulneſs, ever ranked amongſt the num⯑ber of his foibles; but when he was ſufficiently juſtled and rubbed about in the world, which he certainly required, to take off his ruſt, and rough corners, no metal could take a brighter poliſh, and one might ſurely pronounce him to be, a clever, manly and generous fellow, as any you would wiſh to ſee.
Paddy's paternal eſtate, which was very con⯑ſiderable, lay juſt over againſt Bullock's-hatch, on the other ſide of the river, and John and He, lived together, in terms of intimacy and good neighbourhood, keeping up a very pleaſant and friendly intercourſe, excepting when little dif⯑ferences happened, upon matters of ſelf inter⯑eſt—And what relations, friends, or neigh⯑bours, do not frequently differ upon that ſub⯑ject? John, ſenſible of his own ſuperior ſtrength, [104] and the aſcendency he had acquired at ſchool, always took the upperhand, and would allow of no interference, in his branches of trade. If however Paddy was inferior to John in point of ſtrength, or trade, or income, he made up for theſe difficiences, by a very commendable virtue, which was a ſtrict and rigid oeconomy. When John was engaged in any of his ridicul⯑ous lawſuits, Paddy did not grudge to lend him all the aſſiſtance he could. But he would never run himſelf in debt, or mortgage his eſtate, as John had done, ſo that he had a great advantage over him, in going to market with ready money; by which means, he got every thing much cheaper, and people would work for him at lower wages, knowing their pay was ſure, and no deduction to be made on account of law expences, or intereſt of money borrowed, or the like; which was a very common cuſtom with John, who uſed to ſqueeze his weavers and other manufactures, with ſtoppages in ſuch a manner, that at the end of the week, they had not two thirds of their wages to receive, which greatly diſtreſſed them and their families.
The day was now come, when by means of theſe curſed expenſive litigations, John's noſe was moſt damnably in the dirt, for Lewis Baboon, Lord Strut, Nic Frog, and Yankey, were all upon [105] him, at the ſame time; ſo that he was really ſore beſet, and his finances very low.
Paddy then bethought himſelf, that now or never was the time for a great exertion to ſet himſelf free, and to get entirely out of John's clutches.
This he executed in a bold and maſterly man⯑ner, and told John fairly, that he would no lon⯑ger be bound, and tied down, by rules and regulations of his making, but would make them for himſelf in future, and he now claimed many privileges, from which he had hitherto been debarred.
John at preſent felt himſelf fairly down, and therefore made a virtue of neceſſity, by yield⯑ing many points, which he thought might be uſeful to his Relation, without much injuring himſelf. Theſe well judged conceſſions, were firſt managed by Boreas, and afterwards by Re⯑nard, with the advice and conſent of the late Mrs. Bull, ever watchful for John's intereſt; and were the cauſe of great cordiallity and mu⯑tual ſatisfaction to both parties.
A brief narrative of the ſtate of ſiſter Peg's health, and how ſhe ſtood affected, on the preſent oc⯑caſion.—Mac-Bumbo tampers with her Chap⯑lain, who conducts himſelf with great good ſenſe and dignity.
IT is now full time I ſhould give ſome little account, of the tender ſtate of health, the occupations and ſentiments of John Bull's own ſiſter Peg, who for ſome years paſt had been ſubject, to the moſt grievous and oppreſſive fits of a lethargic diſpoſition, whieh had often rendered her, in a manner ſenſeleſs and ſtupid, and unfit for buſineſs. This ſhocking diſtem⯑per, did not however prevent her from attend⯑ing to her own domeſtic concerns, to which ſhe was now become extremely attached.
Inſtead of law, divinity and literature, which had formerly engroſſed all her attention, ſhe had become very ſeriouſly engaged in the culti⯑vation of her paternal eſtate, in building huts for weavers, in ſpinning and carding, bucking and bleaching, and ſuch like.
[107] Peg, notwithſtanding, in her lucid intervals, was rouſed at times, when ſhe heard that John's affairs were in danger, or diſtreſs—For ſhe well knew, that at preſent whatever af⯑fected him, muſt very eſſentially affect herſelf. She was therefore, much concerned, when ſhe was informed of the untimely death of the late Mrs Bull, and the unhappy fate of her ſiſter Darling Privilege, who every body concluded, had periſhed along with her. Many ill-judged, and oppreſſive things were alſo done by Pam, to Peg's weavers, and other manufacturers, which helped, very much to diſguſt her. However Mac-Bumbo, who, as I have related, was for⯑merly in Peg's ſervice, did every thing in his power to flatter and coax her. And he like⯑wiſe, from time to time, gave her ſome little paultry preſents, which had always a great effect with her; who from habits of poverty, and oeconomy, was now become (if poſſible,) more ſelfiſh and intereſted than ever. Though ſhe had certainly leſs occaſion than formerly, having by attention and induſtry, filled her pockets pretty handſomely. But in this weak⯑neſs, ſhe was not ſingular, ſince every body knows, that it is the way of the world, for mankind to become more ſtingy, and avarici⯑ous, as they become more opulent.
[108] Amongſt others who were in high favour with Peg, was her chaplain, a very honeſt, pious, and learned perſon, in whom Peg placed great confidence, and had, very juſtly, great regard and friendſhip for him. Indeed ſhe had another reaſon for her attachment to him, be⯑ſides thoſe I have here mentioned. For it is well known, that Peg, was extravagantly fond of preaching, and praying, and ſinging of pſalms, and all manner of ſpiritual ſongs, and in theſe, her chaplain indulged her completely, giving her from time to time, ſuch dozes of them, as would have perfectly ſurfeited any moderate chriſtian.
To him therefore, Mac-Bumbo paid great court, and wiſhed very much to have had him ſend a letter of congratulation to the Nurſe, on her having ſo ſucceſsfully accompliſhed her plan, of diſmiſſing John's late ſervants.—Mac-Bumbo, was perfectly aware, that the chaplain had always been very ſincerely attached to the Nurſe, and her family, and really wiſhed her well; he did not therefore doubt, but he could have perſuaded him, to have given his ſanction, by approving of her conduct on this occaſion. But he was infinitely miſtaken, for the worthy, and pious man, rejected the pro⯑poſal, [109] with great diſdain, and with much dig⯑nity and good ſenſe, he abſolutely refuſed to countenance a meaſure which he thought re⯑flected ſo little honor upon the perpetrators of it.—
Pam propoſes ſetling all matters of trade, between John Bull, and Paddy Shillaily.—Pam is infect⯑ed with the diſtemper in Paddy's opticks.—He opens his propoſal to Paddy, and then to Mrs Bull.—John ſtarts, and bounces.—Pam opini⯑atres it.—His childiſh and ignorant method of conducting buſineſs.
PAM was ſo much pleaſed with his im⯑potent and ineffectual plan for ſetling the Eaſt country buſineſs—That he thought it would do him equal honor to carry through as great, and as wi [...]e a meaſure, for adjuſting and finally arranging the affairs of John Bull, and Paddy Shillaily.—In contemplating this grand and glorious object, Pam was ſtruck, all of a heap, with the giddy ſtaggers in his head, which confounded his opticks to that degree, that one would have ſworn he had been [110] compleatly infected by Paddy.—In ſhort, he felt himſelf ſo perplexed, and ſo blunder-headed, that he was quite at a loſs which end of the bu⯑ſineſs he ſhould begin with; or whether, it might not be better to begin in the middle—after due deliberation this laſt plan pleaſed him moſt—So he was determined, to open the buſineſs to Paddy, by informing him, that if he would be pleaſed to accept of all John's weaver's, looms and manufactures whatſoever, that he was ſure, in the preſent diſpoſition in which John and his Wife were, he would be anſwerable, he ſhould get them perſuaded to aſſign over to him and his heirs for ever, the whole of thoſe advantages, and that without any fee or reward, excepting only that he meant to aſk for John, by way of reciprocity, the ſurplus of a fund, which had hitherto proved, and always would prove deficient, until Paddy ſhould to⯑tally deſtroy and annihilate John's manufactures and commerce, at which time, he obſerved, that from his wonderful penetration and ſagacity, he could foreſee, that this deficient fund, would prove a productive one. This propoſition was ſo much beyond what Paddy had either wiſhed or expected, that his ears began to crow like chanticleer, and he really doubted, whether the young manager was not laying ſome ſnare for [111] him, and that he meant to take him in, for at this time every body began to ſuſpect his ſince⯑rity; however, having viewed it on all ſides, he could ſee no bad conſequence from receiving a great deal, for which he was to pay nothing but the ſurplus of a deficiency, which Paddy con⯑cluded could not be very ruinous to him, as it would not probably take much of his ready mo⯑ney out of his pocket.
He therefore determined to accept, and told Mr Pam ſo. Pam who had thus begun in the middle, was now determined to take matters by the right end, and ſo he goes next to Mrs Bull, with whom he ſtill continued to be a won⯑derful favourite, for ſhe knew he and his run⯑ners had had a great hand in making the match for her.—He up and told Mrs Bull, in the pre⯑ſence of a large company, what he had done, and of the propoſals he had made to Paddy, and how ready and obliging he had been in accept⯑ing, what was ſo much to his advantage;—and he did not at all doubt but that John Bull would approve of his plan, as it was much better to give his trade, his looms, and every thing to Paddy, rather than live in ill humour with ſo near a Relation. He then told Mrs Bull, in his uſual way, and with a modeſty peculiar to him⯑ſelf, [112] (for he had borrowed a little of what Pad⯑dy had to ſpare) that his plan was one of the beſt that ever had been thought of by any hu⯑man Creature. Boreas, he ſaid, and Renard, and the late Mrs Bull, had perfectly botched this bu⯑ſineſs, for they had agreed to give away all that he intended to give, but they were to get noth⯑ing in return; whereas he had ſecured a very uſeful reciprocity, by engaging Paddy to pay John the ſurplus of a deficient fund, which Pad⯑dy had very readily agreed to, knowing that ſuch a ſum could not poſſibly hurt him, and that in matters of ſuch magnitude, a ſum like that, was neither here nor there, nor any where at all at all.
Pam was ſo enchanted with his own ſuperior wiſdom in tranſacting this melancholly piece of buſineſs, that in ſhort, there was no end to the praiſe and panegyric he beſtowed on himſelf, and the reproaches he threw out upon his pre⯑deceſſors.—And as for Mrs Bull, ſhe was ſo charmed with the ſound of his voice, that to her, it was of no conſequence whether he ſpoke ſenſe or nonſenſe; or whether ſhe heard him or no, ſhe made it a rule always to agree with him: and I verily believe, that if Pam had dared to propoſe to have incarcerated her huſband, or [113] even to have caſtrated him, ſhe would readily have aſſented, by declaring ſhe had ſo much confidence in Pam, that ſhe was ſure that theſe or any other thing which he ſhould propoſe, would be for her own and her huſband's ad⯑vantage.
John Bull having been made acquainted with all this, began now, (as well he might) to be moſt ſeriouſly alarmed. He had for ſome time been opening his eyes towards the conduct and character of Mr Pam, and this compleated the buſineſs.—He therefore began to growl, and bounce and ſwear, like the devil.—The weavers and manufacturers particularly, had reaſon to complain, ſeeing they were to be done for, com⯑pleatly.—They therefore waited on Mr Pam, and remonſtrated bitterly.—Pam, with his uſual art and duplicity, gave them all fair words, aſ⯑ſuring them, that he would take the moſt tender care of their intereſt. This aſſurance, however, Renard, with that ſhrewdneſs which was na⯑tural to him, ſoon diſcovered to be a mere trick and deception, in order to keep them quiet, till all was irrevocably fixed.—When this diſcovery was made, theſe poor people, who now perceived they had been compleatly duped [114] by this little cunning ſtripling, began forthwith to ſolicit Mrs Bull, and all their friends in her family—repreſenting in the ſtrongeſt terms, their diſtreſs, and the danger and ruin to which they, their wives, and children, would be expoſed.—In vain did Boreas and Renard, and many other ſincere friends of John Bull, and his family, in⯑terpoſe with his wife, to mitigate the rigour of this ill concerted plan. Pam was obſtinate, and of courſe, Mrs Bull, who was a mere creature of Pam's, remained inflexible, in ſpite of every thing that could be ſaid upon the ſubject. In ſhort, ſtill mindful of his paternal profeſſion, (for nature will out,) Pam now flattered himſelf, he had found a noſtrum and infallible ſpecific for curing all heart burnings between Paddy and John.—Even Sir Samuel Hannay's famous ſpecific, is not more powerful or more effectual in pre⯑venting evils, than was Pam's, in his own opi⯑nion, who was determined to riſk every thing precious on this deſperate experiment—the Conſtitution, Vitals, Body and Soul itſelf, were all to be ſacrificed to this boyiſh rage for pre⯑ſcription and quackery.
And here it muſt be obſerved, that when Pam was hard driven on any ſubject, by the ſuperior [115] abilities of Boreas and Renard—there were two ſubjects to which he always had recourſe, to rouſe the prejudices of John and his Wife, and un⯑der which he run for ſhelter, as a ſmall fri⯑gate will do, under the guns of a fortreſs, when chaſed by a ſhip of ſuperior force. Theſe fa⯑vourite themes were the Weſt Country litigation, conducted by Boreas, and the plan for regulat⯑ing the Eaſt Country buſineſs, propoſed by Re⯑nard—On which occaſions there was a regular repetition of the ſtale ſtory of encroaching upon the power and patronage of the Nurſe, of an⯑nihilating the old balance and regulations ſo long eſtabliſhed in the family—of purloining all John Bull's charters, and of confiſcating the property of the poor Eaſt Country Clerks, and all that endleſs Gibberiſh, which had neither ſenſe nor argument.—After an exordium of this kind, Pam next proceeded to praiſe his own a⯑mazing abilities and incorruptible integrity, and from thence took occaſion to attack with infinite inſolence, arrogance, malice and ſpleen, every perſon who ſhould happen to differ from himſelf on any ſubject;—and at the ſame time that he turned every thing they ſaid into per⯑fect ridicule, and ſneered at, and reprobated [116] whatever they propoſed—yet was he very atten⯑tive all the while to catch up their ideas to mend his plan, and would eke and patch up his crude abortions, by degrees, ſo that in the end, they began to have ſomething of form and feature, and if not beautiful or correct, they be⯑came at leaſt leſs deformed, and capable of be⯑ing ſeen without abhorrence or deteſtation, and in this ſhape they were impoſed upon the world as his own progeny.
And ſo it fared with his preſent plan for ſet⯑tling all affairs with Paddy.—A for the Nurſe, theſe were matters in which it was pretended ſhe had no ſway.—It was, however, very well known that ſhe was privately conſulted by Pam, and it was as well underſtood that ſhe gave him her directions, through mother Jenky, and that he obeyed them as implicitly as he was obeyed by Mrs Bull.—In this buſineſs, no body preciſely knew the ſentiments of the Nurſe, as ſhe was at pains to conceal them, but as ſhe had a great hatred and contempt for John, and that Pam continued obſtinate, her opinion on the ſubject is ſcarcely to be doubted.
The ſingularity of the ſituation into which this extraordinary perſonage had now brought [117] herſelf, is well worth the obſervation of the curious, not only of the preſent, but of all fu⯑ture ages.—All her jerks, her writhings, wind⯑ings and turnings, in order to command, had in fact, wrought a very different effect from what ſhe wiſhed or expected. It is true ſhe en⯑joyed the ſupreme gratification of a little pre⯑ſent revenge, and the ſovereign ſatisfaction of apparent power, but to thoſe who look into and examine affairs more intimately, it will plainly appear to what a dilemma, and into what tram⯑mels, the Nurſe had precipitated herſelf, by her own egregious abſurdity and folly.—With bet⯑ter management, ſhe might have preſerved equal ſway, by working one ſet of ſervants a⯑gainſt the other, and ſtill have maintained her own power; but by totally diſcharging the ableſt, the moſt reſponſible, and thoſe who were beſt ſupported by the old eſtabliſhed and weal⯑thy yeomanry, on John's lands, ſhe was creat⯑ing an endleſs fund of powerful and irreſiſtible oppoſition to her plans. Beſides, ſhe was now compleatly at the mercy of all thoſe proud and petulant ſpirits, who then commanded in the counting houſe.
She had thus left herſelf without alternative, and was expoſed to the caprice of the daring [118] and ſtern Surly, to the vanity and petulance of the ſupercilious and pompous Pam; to the in⯑ſolence and obſtinacy of the vexatious and ma⯑lignant Strumbolo.—So that her ſole conſolation was her having in the reſt of the ſervants, a ſet of eminent Ninnies, wholly at her command, becauſe unable.—