_How =John=’s affairs had like to have gone to the devil._
We know how difficult a thing it is to write history. Whenever the
reader meets with any thing that exceeds his own pitch, he presently
attacks the credit of the historian; and we shall now be asked how came
John Bull, who was such a coward in his own house, to be so very rash,
as we have said, in that scuffle with Lewis Baboon. The fact is, that
John never was slow at getting into a quarrel; he was choleric beyond
measure; and as for mischief out of doors, there was nobody readier.
He had a parcel of watermen who feared neither man nor devil, and when
he was in his barge, either on the east or the west lake, it was but
a word and a blow with him; he never was afraid to meet with Lewis
Baboon there, nor any where else, except at home. When you proposed to
John, to go over to Lewis’s own house, and break his bones for him, he
thought nothing more easy; but alas, if Lewis talked of coming to him,
matters went no better than we have said.
You will easily believe, that after that scuffle in the barge, Lewis
Baboon must be in a very great passion. Accordingly, he cursed and
swore like twenty dragoons, that he would speedily see John in his own
house, and show him in the face of Mrs. Bull herself, what sort of a
man he had affronted: this was sooner said than done. But in the mean
time, nobody could tell what was become of John, and all his watermen;
whilst Lewis Baboon went vapouring about every where, and did what
he pleased. He drove John’s cattle out of Cracket-Island, and took
possession of it; although John used to think that nobody could ever
dispute islands with him, so ready was he with his barge to relieve
them: but the truth upon this occasion was, that John had got into one
of these pannics we have mentioned, had applied to Nicholas Frog to
no purpose, and actually brought over Rousterdivel, to protect him.
But the whole neighbourhood laughed at him, when they saw that Lewis
Baboon had no more to do than to talk of going over to John, in order
to do what he pleased every where else; and John got into one of the
greatest passions that ever he was in in his life. All the historians
of that time, ring with the amazing noise which he made about that
same Cracket-Island. He swaggered and stared, and roared and swore,
that John Bull of Bull-hall was abused and cheated by his clerks,
his watermen, his overseers, and every soul about him. When he saw
Rousterdivel, he called to his people to turn out that fellow; asked,
what the devil had brought him to his house; would not give him a bit
of victuals, and threatened to go to law with him about a handkerchief:
and in short, obliged the poor fellow to go away, very much puzzled to
make out what sort of a man this same Mr. Bull must be.
Upon this occasion, John made such a noise, that he wakened Mrs. Bull,
and brought her down yawning to the parlour, and rubbing her eyes,
after one of those drousy fits, to which she had been lately subject.
He had already, to her no small mortification, chaced away two or three
of her favourite servants, who used to put her to bed every night, and
among the rest his own nurse, who was grown of late a great person
in all Mrs. Bull’s junketings and private parties; and indeed, for
some time, pretended to manage John himself as she thought proper. To
do this nurse justice, there were few people had a better hand at a
sack-posset; and though she had no aversion to a glass of liquor in a
fair way, yet she never tasted what came through her hands in the way
of making cawdle, whey, or panada for the children: we never heard any
thing amiss of her, save that she would take the children’s halfpence
from them to keep, and therewith make up little sums, which she lent
to the servant maids at interest, when they wanted to buy ribbons, or
other trinkets. But the love of money may be forgiven in old age, as
also that meddling disposition which servants usually acquire when
they have been long about a house. The truth is, that nothing could
be more ridiculous than to hear this old woman put in her word upon
all occasions. There was nothing in which she did not think herself a
perfect oracle; she talked to John not only about his markets and his
bargains, and all his dealings with his neighbours, about the choice
of schools and masters for his children; game-keepers, hunts-men,
whippers-in; but, in short, about his drunken quarrels, boxing matches,
cudgel play, and quarter staff. She would govern every part of his
house for him, and no servant durst go with a message from his master,
without first asking her, if she had any commands?
Hubble-bubble, and this nurse, had gone hand in hand for many a day;
but alas! the loss of Cracket-Island fell heavy upon them both at last.
Bawd, whore and rogue, were the best names they could get from John
upon that occasion, and Hubble-bubble got out of his way as fast as
he could scour; but the nurse broke a cawdle-cup which she had in her
hand, and bid him go find another to make slops for himself and his
children.
John was greatly helped into this fine humour by one Jowler, for whom
he had a great regard at this time. Most historians agree, that the
name of Jowler was only a nick-name, which this fellow had got from the
boys at school, on account of some odd conceit of a resemblance between
him and a hound of that name in John’s pack. They say, moreover, that
most of the boys had the name of some dog or other given them, and that
they used to make one of themselves the hare, and so hunt him with a
mighty noise, in imitation of John’s pack. As to the dog Jowler, his
resemblance to the person we are now speaking of, has procured him a
place in the records of history. There we are told, that this dog had
a very loud tongue, and that if he could not lead the whole pack, he
never failed, at least, to carry off five or six couple, sometimes on
a right, sometimes on a wrong scent; that he thereby so often spoilt
the sport, that the huntsman was downright crazy with rage, and often
threatened to turn Jowler out of the kennel, and sometimes actually
tied him up at home; but then he made such a noise, that Mrs. Bull
could get no sleep for him in a morning; and the huntsman was as often
obliged to leave Mango’s tomb and plaister in the kennel, whilst
Jowler was suffered to lead the pack. Then John had excellent sport,
and the huntsman no great cause to complain; for Jowler was tractable
enough, and a crack of the whip would make him leave the pursuit of
the stag, for that of a pole-cat, or a rabbit, and this not absolutely
for want of nose, but for fear of being turned down among the babblers
again.
Although we account it below the dignity of history, to adopt, or
retail nick-names, yet we think ourselves obliged in this case, to
retain a name which has come down to us on the great tide of writers,
which watt and carry the transactions of that age. To return,
therefore, from this digression; Jowler no sooner observed the humour
which John was in, than he chimed in directly; he told him that his
family had never been so much disgraced before; that the scandalous
loss of Cracket-Island was more owing to his overseer, than to the
waterman who was sent to look after it; that it was ignominious for
John Bull, with a house full of fine young fellows, to need the
protection of so sorry a fellow as Rousterdivel; that if he did not
look about him, he would soon become the jest of all the neighbourhood,
and lose all the ground which he had upon the common, or any where
else. To approve of a man’s advice in one thing, and trust him with
every thing, were inseparable with John; accordingly, he put all his
affairs directly into Jowler’s hands, and for the first fortnight
neither Sir Thomas, nor any body else, durst controul him in any thing.