I believe there is something mischievous in my disposition, for nothing
diverts me so much as to see certain characters tormented with false
terrors.--We last night lodged at the house of Sir Thomas Bullford, an
old friend of my uncle, a jolly fellow, of moderate intellects, who, in
spite of the gout, which hath lamed him, is resolved to be merry to the
last; and mirth he has a particular knack in extracting from his guests,
let their humour be ever so caustic or refractory.--Besides our company,
there was in the house a fat-headed justice of the peace, called
Frogmore, and a country practitioner in surgery, who seemed to be our
landlord’s chief companion and confidant.--We found the knight sitting
on a couch, with his crutches by his side, and his feet supported on
cushions; but he received us with a hearty welcome, and seemed greatly
rejoiced at our arrival.--After tea, we were entertained with a sonata
on the harpsichord by lady Bullford, who sung and played to admiration;
but Sir Thomas seemed to be a little asinine in the article of ears,
though he affected to be in raptures, and begged his wife to favour us
with an arietta of her own composing.--This arietta, however, she no
sooner began to perform, than he and the justice fell asleep; but the
moment she ceased playing, the knight waked snorting, and exclaimed,
‘O cara! what d’ye think, gentlemen? Will you talk any more of your
Pargolesi and your Corelli?’--At the same time, he thrust his tongue in
one cheek, and leered with one eye at the doctor and me, who sat on his
left hand. He concluded the pantomime with a loud laugh, which he could
command at all times extempore.--Notwithstanding his disorder, he did
not do penance at supper, nor did he ever refuse his glass when the
toast went round, but rather encouraged a quick circulation, both by
precept and example.
I soon perceived the doctor had made himself very necessary to the
baronet.--He was the whetstone of his wit, the butt of his satire, and
his operator in certain experiments of humour, which were occasionally
tried upon strangers.--Justice Frogmore was an excellent subject for
this species of philosophy; sleek and corpulent, solemn, and shallow,
he had studied Burn with uncommon application, but he studied nothing
so much as the art of living (that is, eating) well--This fat buck had
often afforded good sport to our landlord; and he was frequently started
with tolerable success, in the course of this evening; but the baronet’s
appetite for ridicule seemed to be chiefly excited by the appearance,
address, and conversation of Lismahago, whom he attempted in all
different modes of exposition; but he put me in mind of a contest that I
once saw betwixt a young hound and an old hedge-hog--The dog turned him
over and over, and bounced and barked, and mumbled; but as often as
he attempted to bite, he felt a prickle in his jaws, and recoiled in
manifest confusion;--The captain, when left to himself, will not fail to
turn his ludicrous side to the company, but if any man attempts to force
him into that attitude, he becomes stubborn as a mule, and unmanageable
as an elephant unbroke.
Divers tolerable jokes were cracked upon the justice, who eat a most
unconscionable supper, and, among other things, a large plate of broiled
mushrooms, which he had no sooner swallowed than the doctor observed,
with great gravity, that they were of the kind called champignons, which
in some constitutions has a poisonous effect.--Mr Frogmore startled at
this remark, asked, in some confusion, why he had not been so kind as to
give him that notice sooner.--He answered, that he took it for granted,
by his eating them so heartily, that he was used to the dish; but as he
seemed to be under some apprehension, he prescribed a bumper of plague
water, which the justice drank off immediately, and retired to rest, not
without marks of terror and disquiet.
At midnight we were shewn to our different chambers, and in half an
hour, I was fast asleep in bed; but about three o’clock in the morning I
was waked with a dismal cry of Fire! and starting up, ran to the window
in my shirt.--The night was dark and stormy; and a number of people
half-dressed ran backwards and forwards thro’ the court-yard, with links
and lanthorns, seemingly in the utmost hurry and trepidation.--Slipping
on my cloaths in a twinkling, I ran down stairs, and, upon enquiry,
found the fire was confined to a back-stair, which led to a detached
apartment where Lismahago lay.--By this time, the lieutenant was alarmed
by bawling at his window, which was in the second story, but he could
not find his cloaths in the dark, and his room-door was locked on the
outside.--The servants called to him, that the house had been robbed;
that, without all doubt, the villains had taken away his cloaths,
fastened the door, and set the house on fire, for the stair-case was in
flames.--In this dilemma the poor lieutenant ran about the room naked
like a squirrel in a cage, popping out his bead at the window between
whiles, and imploring assistance.--At length, the knight in person
was brought out in his chair, attended by my uncle and all the family,
including our aunt Tabitha, who screamed, and cried, and tore her hair,
as if she had been distracted--Sir Thomas had already ordered his people
to bring a long ladder which was applied to the captain’s, window, and
now he exhorted him earnestly to descend.--There was no need of much
rhetoric to persuade Lismahago, who forthwith made his exit by the
window, roaring all the time to the people below to hold fast the
ladder.
Notwithstanding the gravity of the occasion, it was impossible to behold
this scene without being seized with an inclination to laugh. The rueful
aspect of the lieutenant in his shirt, with a quilted night-cap fastened
under his chin, and his long lank limbs and posteriors exposed to the
wind, made a very picturesque appearance, when illumined by the links
and torches which the servants held up to light him in his descent.--All
the company stood round the ladder, except the knight, who sat in his
chair, exclaiming from time to time, ‘Lord, have mercy upon us!--save
the gentleman’s life!--mind your footing, dear captain! softly!--stand
fast!--clasp the ladder with both hands!--there!--well done, my dear
boy!--O bravo!--an old soldier for ever!--bring a blanket bring a
warm blanket to comfort his poor carcase--warm the bed in the green
room--give me your hand, dear captain--I’m rejoiced to see thee safe
and sound with all my heart.’ Lismahago was received at the foot of the
ladder by his inamorata, who snatching a blanket from one of the maids,
wrapped it about his body; two men-servants took him under the arms,
and a female conducted him to the green room, still accompanied by Mrs
Tabitha, who saw him fairly put to bed.--During this whole transaction
he spoke not a syllable, but looked exceeding grim, sometimes at one,
sometimes at another of the spectators, who now adjourned in a body to
the parlour where we had supped, every one surveying another with marks
of astonishment and curiosity.
The knight being seated in an easy chair, seized my uncle by the hand,
and bursting into a long and loud laugh, ‘Matt (cried he), crown me with
oak, or ivy, or laurel, or parsely, or what you will, and acknowledge
this to be a coup de maitre in the way of waggery--ha, ha, ha!--Such a
camisciata, scagliata, beffata! O, che roba! O, what a subject!--O, what
caricatura!--O, for a Rosa, a Rembrandt, a Schalken!--Zooks, I’ll give a
hundred guineas to have it painted!--what a fine descent from the cross,
or ascent to the gallows! what lights and shadows!--what a groupe below!
what expression above!--what an aspect!--did you mind the aspect? ha,
ha, ha!--and the limbs, and the muscles every toe denoted terror! ha,
ha, ha!--then the blanket! O, what costume! St Andrew! St Lazarus! St
Barrabas!--ha, ha, ha!’ ‘After all then (cried Mr Bramble very gravely),
this was no more than a false alarm.--We have been frightened out of our
beds, and almost out of our senses, for the joke’s sake.’ ‘Ay, and such
a joke! (cried our landlord) such a farce! such a denouement! such a
catastrophe!’
‘Have a little patience (replied our ‘squire); we are not yet come to
the catastrophe; and pray God it may not turn out a tragedy instead of a
farce.--The captain is one of those saturnine subjects, who have no
idea of humour.--He never laughs in his own person; nor can he bear that
other people should laugh at his expence. Besides, if the subject
had been properly chosen, the joke was too severe in all conscience.’
‘'Sdeath! (cried the knight) I could not have bated him an ace had
he been my own father; and as for the subject, such another does not
present itself once in half a century.’ Here Mrs Tabitha interposing,
and bridling up, declared, she did not see that Mr Lismahago was a
fitter subject for ridicule than the knight himself; and that she was
very much afraid, he would very soon find he had mistaken his man.--The
baronet was a good deal disconcerted by his intimation, saying, that he
must be a Goth and a barbarian, if he did not enter into the spirit of
such a happy and humourous contrivance.--He begged, however, that Mr
Bramble and his sister would bring him to reason; and this request was
reinforced by lady Bullford, who did not fail to read the baronet a
lecture upon his indiscretion, which lecture he received with submission
on one side of his face, and a leer upon the other.
We now went to bed for the second time; and before I got up, my uncle
had visited Lismahago in the green room, and used such arguments with
him, that when we met in the parlour he seemed to be quite appeased.
He received the knight’s apology with good grace, and even professed
himself pleased at finding he had contributed to the diversion of the
company.--Sir Thomas shook him by the hand, laughing heartily; and
then desired a pinch of snuff, in token of perfect reconciliation--The
lieutenant, putting his hand in his waistcoat pocket, pulled out,
instead of his own Scotch mull, a very fine gold snuff-box, which he no
sooner perceived than he said, ‘Here is a small mistake.’ ‘No mistake
at all (cried the baronet): a fair exchange is no robbery.--Oblige me so
far, captain, as to let me keep your mull as a memorial.’ ‘Sir (said the
lieutenant), the mull is much at your service; but this machine I can by
no means retain.--It looks like compounding a sort of felony in the code
of honour. Besides, I don’t know but there may be another joke in this
conveyance; and I don’t find myself disposed to be brought upon the
stage again.--I won’t presume to make free with your pockets, but I beg
you will put it up again with your own hand.’ So saying, with a certain
austerity of aspect, he presented the snuffbox to the knight, who
received it in some confusion, and restored the mull, which he would by
no means keep except on the terms of exchange.
This transaction was like to give a grave cast to the conversation,
when my uncle took notice that Mr Justice Frogmore had not made his
appearance either at the night-alarm, or now at the general rendezvous.
The baronet hearing Frogmore mentioned, ‘Odso! (cried he) I had forgot
the justice.--Pr’ythee, doctor, go and bring him out of his kennel.’
Then laughing till his sides were well shaken, he said he would shew the
captain, that he was not the only person of the drama exhibited for the
entertainment of the company. As to the night-scene, it could not affect
the justice, who had been purposely lodged in the farther end of the
house, remote from the noise, and lulled with a dose of opium into the
bargain. In a few minutes, Mr Justice was led into the parlour in his
nightcap and loose morning-gown, rolling his head from side to side, and
groaning piteously all the way.--‘Jesu! neighbour Frogmore (exclaimed
the baronet), what is the matter?--you look as if you was not a man
for this world.--Set him down softly on the couch--poor gentlemen!--Lord
have mercy upon us!--What makes him so pale, and yellow, and bloated?’
‘Oh, Sir Thomas! (cried the justice) I doubt ‘tis all over with me--
Those mushrooms I eat at your table have done my business--ah! oh!
hey!’ ‘Now the Lord forbid! (said the other)--what! man, have a good
heart--How does thy stomach feel?--hall?’
To this interrogation he made no reply; but throwing aside his
nightgown, discovered that his waist-coat would not meet upon his belly
by five good inches at least. ‘Heaven protect us all! (cried Sir Thomas)
what a melancholy spectacle!--never did I see a man so suddenly swelled,
but when he was either just dead, or just dying.--Doctor, can’st thou
do nothing for this poor object?’ ‘I don’t think the case is quite
desperate (said the surgeon), but I would advise Mr Frogmore to settle
his affairs with all expedition; the parson may come and pray by him,
while I prepare a glyster and an emetic draught.’ The justice, rolling
his languid eyes, ejaculated with great fervency, ‘Lord, have mercy upon
us! Christ, have mercy upon us!’--Then he begged the surgeon, in the
name of God, to dispatch--‘As for my worldly affairs (said he), they
are all settled but one mortgage, which must be left to my heirs--but
my poor soul! my poor soul! what will become of my poor soul? miserable
sinner that I am!’ ‘Nay, pr’ythee, my dear boy, compose thyself (resumed
the knight); consider the mercy of heaven is infinite; thou can’st
not have any sins of a very deep dye on thy conscience, or the devil’s
in’t.’ ‘Name not the devil (exclaimed the terrified Frogmore), I have
more sins to answer for than the world dreams of.--Ah! friend, I have
been sly--sly damn’d sly!--Send for the parson without loss of time, and
put me to bed, for I am posting to eternity.’--He was accordingly raised
from the couch, and supported by two servants, who led him back to his
room; but before he quitted the parlour, he intreated the good company
to assist him with their prayers.--He added, ‘Take warning by me, who
am suddenly cut off in my prime, like a flower of the field; and God
forgive you, Sir Thomas, for suffering such poisonous trash to be eaten
at your table.’
He was no sooner removed out of hearing, than the baronet abandoned
himself to a violent fit of laughing, in which he was joined by the
greatest part of the company; but we could hardly prevent the good lady
from going to undeceive the patient, by discovering, that while he slept
his waistcoat had been straitened by the contrivance of the surgeon;
and that the disorder in his stomach and bowels was occasioned by some
antimonial wine, which he had taken over night, under the denomination
of plague-water. She seemed to think that his apprehension might put an
end to his life: the knight swore he was no such chicken, but a
tough old rogue, that would live long enough to plague all his
neighbours.--Upon enquiry, we found his character did not intitle him to
much compassion or respect, and therefore we let our landlord’s humour
take its course.--A glyster was actually administered by an old woman
of the family, who had been Sir Thomas’s nurse, and the patient took
a draught made with oxymel of squills to forward the operation of the
antimonial wine, which had been retarded by the opiate of the preceding
night. He was visited by the vicar, who read prayers, and began to take
an account of the state of his soul, when those medicines produced their
effect; so that the parson was obliged to hold his nose while he poured
forth spiritual consolation from his mouth. The same expedient was used
by the knight and me, who, with the doctor, entered the chamber at this
juncture, and found Frogmore enthroned on an easing-chair, under the
pressure of a double evacuation. The short intervals betwixt every heave
he employed in crying for mercy, confessing his sins, or asking the
vicar’s opinion of his case; and the vicar answered, in a solemn
snuffling tone, that heightened the ridicule of the scene. The emetic
having done its office, the doctor interfered, and ordered the patient
to be put in bed again. When he examined the egesta, and felt his pulse,
he declared that much of the virus was discharged, and, giving him a
composing draught, assured him he had good hopes of his recovery.--This
welcome hint he received with the tears of joy in his eyes, protesting,
that if he should recover, he would always think himself indebted for
his life to the great skill and tenderness of his doctor, whose hand he
squeezed with great fervour; and thus he was left to his repose.
We were pressed to stay dinner, that we might be witnesses of his
resuscitation; but my uncle insisted upon our departing before noon,
that we might reach this town before it should be dark.--In the
mean-time, lady Bullford conducted us into the garden to see a fishpond
just finished, which Mr Bramble censured as being too near the parlour,
where the knight now sat by himself, dozing in an elbow-chair after the
fatigues of his morning atchievement.--In this situation he reclined,
with his feet wrapped in flannel, and supported in a line with his body,
when the door flying open with a violent shock, lieutenant Lismahago
rushed into the room with horror in his looks, exclaiming, ‘A mad dog!
a mad dog!’ and throwing up the window sash, leaped into the garden--Sir
Thomas, waked by this tremendous exclamation, started up, and forgetting
his gout, followed the lieutenant’s example by a kind of instinctive
impulse. He not only bolted thro’ the window like an arrow from a bow,
but ran up to his middle in the pond before he gave the least sign of
recollection. Then the captain began to bawl, ‘Lord have mercy upon
us!--pray, take care of the gentleman!--for God’s sake, mind your
footing, my dear boy!--get warm blankets--comfort his poor carcase--warm
the bed in the green room.’
Lady Bullford was thunder-struck at this phaenomenon, and the rest of
the company gazed in silent astonishment, while the servants hastened
to assist their master, who suffered himself to be carried back into the
parlour without speaking a word.--Being instantly accommodated with dry
clothes and flannels, comforted with a cordial, and replaced in statu
quo, one of the maids was ordered to chafe his lower extremities, an
operation in consequence of which his senses seemed to return and his
good humour to revive.--As we had followed him into the room, he looked
at every individual in his turn, with a certain ludicrous expression in
his countenance, but fixed his eyes in particular upon Lismahago, who
presented him with a pinch of snuff, and when he took it in silence,
‘Sir Thomas Bullford (said he), I am much obliged to you for all your
favours, and some of them I have endeavoured to repay in your own coin.’
‘Give me thy hand (cried the baronet); thou hast indeed payed me Scot
and lot; and even left a balance in my hands, for which, in presence of
this company, I promise to be accountable.’--So saying, he laughed
very heartily, and even seemed to enjoy the retaliation which had been
exacted at his own expence; but lady Bullford looked very grave; and in
all probability thought the lieutenant had carried his resentment too
far, considering that her husband was valetudinary--but, according
to the proverb, he that will play at bowls must expect to meet with
rubbers. I have seen a tame bear, very diverting when properly managed,
become a very dangerous wild beast when teized for the entertainment of
the spectators.--As for Lismahago, he seemed to think the fright and the
cold bath would have a good effect upon his patient’s constitution: but
the doctor hinted some apprehension that the gouty matter might, by such
a sudden shock, be repelled from the extremities and thrown upon some of
the more vital parts of the machine.--I should be very sorry to see this
prognostic verified upon our facetious landlord, who told Mrs Tabitha at
parting, that he hoped she would remember him in the distribution of
the bride’s favours, as he had taken so much pains to put the captain’s
parts and mettle to the proof.--After all, I am afraid our squire
will appear to be the greatest sufferer by the baronet’s wit; for his
constitution is by no means calculated for night-alarms. He has yawned
and shivered all day, and gone to bed without supper; so that, as we
have got into good quarters, I imagine we shall make a halt to-morrow;
in which case, you will have at least one day’s respite from the
persecution of
J. MELFORD Oct. 3.
To Mrs MARY JONES, at Brambleton-hall.