I HAVE begun a new book, on purpose that I might have room enough to
explain the nature of the perplexities in which my uncle _Toby_ was
involved, from the many discourses and interrogations about the siege
of _Namur_, where he received his wound.
I must remind the reader, in case he has read the history of King
_William_’s wars,—but if he has not,—I then inform him, that one of the
most memorable attacks in that siege, was that which was made by the
_English_ and _Dutch_ upon the point of the advanced counterscarp,
between the gate of _St. Nicolas_, which inclosed the great sluice or
water-stop, where the _English_ were terribly exposed to the shot of
the counter-guard and demi-bastion of _St. Roch_: The issue of which
hot dispute, in three words, was this; That the _Dutch_ lodged
themselves upon the counter-guard,—and that the _English_ made
themselves masters of the covered-way before _St. Nicolas_-gate,
notwithstanding the gallantry of the _French_ officers, who exposed
themselves upon the glacis sword in hand.
As this was the principal attack of which my uncle _Toby_ was an
eye-witness at _Namur_,——the army of the besiegers being cut off, by
the confluence of the _Maes_ and _Sambre_, from seeing much of each
other’s operations,——my uncle _Toby_ was generally more eloquent and
particular in his account of it; and the many perplexities he was in,
arose out of the almost insurmountable difficulties he found in telling
his story intelligibly, and giving such clear ideas of the differences
and distinctions between the scarp and counterscarp,—the glacis and
covered-way,—the half-moon and ravelin,—as to make his company fully
comprehend where and what he was about.
Writers themselves are too apt to confound these terms; so that you
will the less wonder, if in his endeavours to explain them, and in
opposition to many misconceptions, that my uncle _Toby_ did oft-times
puzzle his visitors, and sometimes himself too.
To speak the truth, unless the company my father led up stairs were
tolerably clear-headed, or my uncle _Toby_ was in one of his
explanatory moods, ’twas a difficult thing, do what he could, to keep
the discourse free from obscurity.
What rendered the account of this affair the more intricate to my uncle
_Toby_, was this,—that in the attack of the counterscarp, before the
gate of _St. Nicolas_, extending itself from the bank of the _Maes_,
quite up to the great water-stop,—the ground was cut and cross cut with
such a multitude of dykes, drains, rivulets, and sluices, on all
sides,—and he would get so sadly bewildered, and set fast amongst them,
that frequently he could neither get backwards or forwards to save his
life; and was oft-times obliged to give up the attack upon that very
account only.
These perplexing rebuffs gave my uncle _Toby Shandy_ more perturbations
than you would imagine; and as my father’s kindness to him was
continually dragging up fresh friends and fresh enquirers,——he had but
a very uneasy task of it.
No doubt my uncle _Toby_ had great command of himself,—and could guard
appearances, I believe, as well as most men;—yet any one may imagine,
that when he could not retreat out of the ravelin without getting into
the half-moon, or get out of the covered-way without falling down the
counterscarp, nor cross the dyke without danger of slipping into the
ditch, but that he must have fretted and fumed inwardly:—He did so;—and
the little and hourly vexations, which may seem trifling and of no
account to the man who has not read _Hippocrates_, yet, whoever has
read _Hippocrates_, or Dr. _James Mackenzie_, and has considered well
the effects which the passions and affections of the mind have upon the
digestion—(Why not of a wound as well as of a dinner?)—may easily
conceive what sharp paroxysms and exacerbations of his wound my uncle
_Toby_ must have undergone upon that score only.
—My uncle _Toby_ could not philosophize upon it;—’twas enough he felt
it was so,—and having sustained the pain and sorrows of it for three
months together, he was resolved some way or other to extricate
himself.
He was one morning lying upon his back in his bed, the anguish and
nature of the wound upon his groin suffering him to lie in no other
position, when a thought came into his head, that if he could purchase
such a thing, and have it pasted down upon a board, as a large map of
the fortification of the town and citadel of _Namur_, with its
environs, it might be a means of giving him ease.—I take notice of his
desire to have the environs along with the town and citadel, for this
reason,—because my uncle _Toby_’s wound was got in one of the
traverses, about thirty toises from the returning angle of the trench,
opposite to the salient angle of the demi-bastion of _St. Roch_:——so
that he was pretty confident he could stick a pin upon the identical
spot of ground where he was standing on when the stone struck him.
All this succeeded to his wishes, and not only freed him from a world
of sad explanations, but, in the end, it proved the happy means, as you
will read, of procuring my uncle _Toby_ his HOBBY-HORSE.