not help smiling at the eagerness with which the spectators flew upon
him, and suffered himself to be searched with great composure, well
knowing they would find no moveables about his person, but such as upon
examination would turn to his account; he therefore very calmly
presented to the magistrate his purse, and a small box that contained
his jewels, and in the French language desired they might be preserved
from the hands of the mob. This request was interpreted by the accuser,
who, at the same time, laid claim to the booty. The justice took charge
of the deposit, and one of his neighbours having undertaken the office
of clerk, he proceeded to the examination of the culprit, whose papers
were by this time laid on the table before him. “Stranger,” said he,
“you stand charged with being son of the Pretender to these realms;
what have you to say in your own defence?” Our hero assured him, in the
French language, that he was falsely impeached, and demanded justice on
the accuser, who, without the least reason, had made such a malicious
attack upon the life and honour of an innocent gentleman.
The smuggler, instead of acting the part of a faithful interpreter,
told his worship, that the prisoner’s answer was no more than a simple
denial, which every felon would make who had nothing else to plead in
his own behalf, and that this alone was a strong presumption of his
guilt, because, if he was not really the person they suspected him to
be, the thing would speak for itself, for, if he was not the Young
Pretender, who then was he? This argument had great weight with the
justice, who, assuming a very important aspect, observed, “Very true,
friend, if you are not the Pretender, in the name of God, who are you?
One may see with half an eye that he is no better than a promiscuous
fellow.”
Ferdinand now began to repent of having pretended ignorance of the
English language, as he found himself at the mercy of a rascal, who put
a false gloss upon all his words, and addressed himself to the audience
successively in French, High Dutch, Italian, and Hungarian Latin,
desiring to know if any person present understood any of these tongues,
that his answers might be honestly explained to the bench. But he might
have accosted them in Chinese with the same success: there was not one
person present tolerably versed in his mother-tongue, much less
acquainted with any foreign language, except the wine merchant, who,
incensed at this appeal, which he considered as an affront to his
integrity, gave the judge to understand, that the delinquent, instead
of speaking to the purpose, contumaciously insulted his authority in
sundry foreign lingos, which he apprehended was an additional proof of
his being the Chevalier’s son, inasmuch as no person would take the
pains to learn such a variety of gibberish, except with some sinister
intent.
This annotation was not lost upon the squire, who was too jealous of
the honour of his office to overlook such a flagrant instance of
contempt. His eyes glistened, his cheeks were inflated with rage. “The
case is plain,” said he; “having nothing of signification to offer in
his own favour, he grows refractory, and abuses the court in his base
Roman Catholic jargon; but I’ll let you know, for all you pretend to be
a prince, you are no better than an outlawed vagrant, and I’ll show you
what a thing you are when you come in composition with an English
justice, like me, who have more than once extinguished myself in the
service of my country. As nothing else accrues, your purse, black box,
and papers shall be sealed up before witnesses, and sent by express to
one of his Majesty’s secretaries of state; and, as for yourself, I will
apply to the military at Canterbury, for a guard to conduct you to
London.”
This was a very unwelcome declaration to our adventurer, who was on the
point of haranguing the justice and spectators in their own language,
when he was relieved from the necessity of taking that step by the
interposition of a young nobleman just arrived at the inn, who, being
informed of this strange examination, entered the court, and, at first
sight of the prisoner, assured the justice he was imposed upon; for
that he himself had often seen the Young Pretender in Paris, and that
there was no kind of resemblance between that adventurer and the person
now before him. The accuser was not a little mortified at his
lordship’s affirmation, which met with all due regard from the bench,
though the magistrate took notice, that, granting the prisoner was not
the Young Chevalier himself, it was highly probable he was an emissary
of that house, as he could give no satisfactory account of himself, and
was possessed of things of such value as no honest man could expose to
the accidents of the road.
Fathom, having thus found an interpreter, who signified to him, in the
French tongue, the doubts of the justice, told his lordship, that he
was a gentleman of a noble house in Germany, who, for certain reasons,
had come abroad incognito, with a view to see the world; and that,
although the letters they had seized would prove the truth of that
assertion, he should be loth to expose his private concerns to the
knowledge of strangers, if he could possibly be released without that
mortification. The young nobleman explained his desire to the court;
but, his own curiosity being interested, observed, at the same time,
that the justice could not be said to have discharged the duties of his
station, until he should have examined every circumstance relating to
the prisoner. Upon which remonstrance, he was requested by the bench to
peruse the papers, and accordingly communicated the substance of one
letter to this effect:—
“MY DEAR SON,
Though I am far from approving the rash step you have taken in
withdrawing yourself from your father’s house, in order to avoid an
engagement which would have been equally honourable and advantageous to
your family, I cannot so far suppress my affection, as to bear the
thought of your undergoing those hardships which, for your
disobedience, you deserve to suffer. I have therefore, without the
knowledge of your father, sent the bearer to attend you in your
peregrinations; his fidelity you know hath been tried in a long course
of service, and I have entrusted to his care, for your use, a purse of
two hundred ducats, and a box of jewels to the value of twice that sum,
which, though not sufficient to support an equipage suitable to your
birth, will, at least for some time, preserve you from the
importunities of want. When you are dutiful enough to explain your
designs and situation, you may expect further indulgence from your
tender and disconsolate mother,—
THE COUNTESS OF FATHOM.”
This letter, which, as well as the others, our hero had forged for the
purpose, effectually answered his intent, in throwing dust in the eyes
and understanding of the spectators, who now regarded the prisoner with
looks of respectful remorse, as a man of quality who had been falsely
accused. His lordship, to make a parade of his own politeness and
importance, assured the bench, he was no stranger to the family of the
Fathoms, and, with a compliment, gave Ferdinand to understand he had
formerly seen him at Versailles. There being no longer room for
suspicion, the justice ordered our adventurer to be set at liberty, and
even invited him to be seated, with an apology for the rude manner in
which he had been treated, owing to the misinformation of the accuser,
who was threatened with the stocks, for his malice and presumption.
But this was not the only triumph our hero obtained over the wine
merchant. Maurice was no sooner unfettered, than, advancing into the
middle of the room, “My lord,” said he, addressing himself in French to
his master’s deliverer, “since you have been so generous as to protect
a noble stranger from the danger of such a false accusation, I hope you
will still lay an additional obligation upon the Count, by retorting
the vengeance of the law upon his perfidious accuser, whom I know to be
a trader in those articles of merchandise which are prohibited by the
ordinances of this nation. I have seen him lately at Boulogne, and am
perfectly well acquainted with some persons who have supplied him with
French lace and embroidery; and, as a proof of what I allege, I desire
you will order him and this barber, who is his understrapper, to be
examined on the spot.”
This charge, which was immediately explained to the bench, yielded
extraordinary satisfaction to the spectators, one of whom, being an
officer of the customs, forthwith began to exercise his function upon
the unlucky perruquier, who, being stripped of his upper garments, and
even of his shirt, appeared like the mummy of an Egyptian king, most
curiously rolled up in bandages of rich figured gold shalloon, that
covered the skirts of four embroidered waistcoats. The merchant, seeing
his expectation so unhappily reversed, made an effort to retire with a
most rueful aspect, but was prevented by the officer, who demanded the
interposition of the civil power, that he might undergo the same
examination to which the other had been subjected. He was accordingly
rifled without loss of time, and the inquiry proved well worth the care
of him who made it; for a considerable booty of the same sort of
merchandise was found in his boots, breeches, hat, and between the
buckram and lining of his surtout. Yet, not contented with this prize,
the experienced spoiler proceeded to search his baggage, and,
perceiving a false bottom in his portmanteau, detected beneath it a
valuable accession to the plunder he had already obtained.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE SINGULAR MANNER OF FATHOM’S ATTACK AND TRIUMPH OVER THE VIRTUE OF
THE FAIR ELENOR.
Proper cognisance being thus taken of these contraband effects, and the
informer furnished with a certificate, by which he was entitled to a
share of the seizure, the coachman summoned his passengers to the
carriage; the purse and jewels were restored to Count Fathom, who
thanked the justice, and his lordship in particular, for the candour
and hospitality with which he had been treated, and resumed his place
in the vehicle, amidst the congratulations of all his
fellow-travellers, except the two forlorn smugglers, who, instead of
re-embarking in the coach, thought proper to remain at the inn, with
view to mitigate, if possible, the severity of their misfortune.
Among those who felicitated Fathom upon the issue of this adventure,
the young maiden seemed to express the most sensible pleasure at that
event. The artful language of his eyes had raised in her breast certain
fluttering emotions, before she knew the value of her conquest; but now
that his rank and condition were discovered, these transports were
increased by the ideas of vanity and ambition, which are mingled with
the first seeds of every female constitution. The belief of having
captivated the heart of a man who could raise her to the rank and
dignity of a countess, produced such agreeable sensations in her fancy,
that her eyes shone with unusual lustre, and a continual smile played
in dimples on her rosy cheeks; so that her attractions, though not
powerful enough to engage the affection, were yet sufficient to inflame
the desire of our adventurer, who very honestly marked her chastity for
prey to his voluptuous passion. Had she been well seasoned with
knowledge and experience, and completely armed with caution against the
artifice and villany of man, her virtue might not have been able to
withstand the engines of such an assailant, considering the dangerous
opportunities to which she was necessarily exposed. How easy then must
his victory have been over an innocent, unsuspecting country damsel,
flushed with the warmth of youth, and an utter stranger to the ways of
life!
While Obadiah, therefore, and his plump companion, were engaged in
conversation, on the strange incidents which had passed, Fathom acted a
very expressive pantomime with this fair buxom nymph, who comprehended
his meaning with surprising facility, and was at so little pains to
conceal the pleasure she took in this kind of intercourse, that several
warm squeezes were interchanged between her and her lover, before they
arrived at Rochester, where they proposed to dine. It was during this
period, he learned from the answers she made to the inquisitive quaker,
that her sole dependence was upon a relation, to whom she had a letter,
and that she was a perfect stranger in the great city; circumstances on
which he soon formed the project of her ruin.
Upon their arrival at the Black Bull, he for the first time found
himself alone with his Amanda, whose name was Elenor, their
fellow-travellers being elsewhere employed about their own concerns;
and, unwilling to lose the precious opportunity, he began to act the
part of a very importunate lover, which he conceived to be a proper
sequel to the prelude which had been performed in the coach. The
freedoms which she, out of pure simplicity and good-humour, permitted
him to take with her hand, and even her rosy lips, encouraged him to
practise other familiarities upon her fair bosom, which scandalised her
virtue so much, that, in spite of the passion she had begun to indulge
in his behalf, she rejected his advances with all the marks of anger
and disdain; and he found it necessary to appease the storm he had
raised, by the most respectful and submissive demeanour; resolving to
change his operations, and carry on his attacks, so as to make her
yield at discretion, without alarming her religion or pride.
Accordingly, when the bill was called after dinner, he took particular
notice of her behaviour, and, perceiving her pull out a large leathern
purse that contained her money, reconnoitred the pocket in which it was
deposited, and, while they sat close to each other in the carriage,
conveyed it with admirable dexterity into an hole in the cushion.
Whether the corpulent couple, who sat opposite to these lovers, had
entered into an amorous engagement at the inn, or were severally
induced by other motives, is uncertain; but sure it is, both left the
coach on that part of the road which lies nearest to Gravesend, and
bade adieu to the other pair, on pretence of having urgent business at
that place.
Ferdinand, not a little pleased at their departure, renewed his most
pathetic expressions of love, and sung several French songs on that
tender subject, which seemed to thrill to the soul of his beauteous
Helen. While the driver halted at Dartford to water his horses, she was
smit with the appearance of some cheesecakes, which were presented by
the landlady of the house, and having bargained for two or three, put
her hand in her pocket, in order to pay for her purchase; but what was
her astonishment, when, after having rummaged her equipage, she
understood her whole fortune was lost! This mishap was, by a loud
shriek, announced to our hero, who affected infinite amazement and
concern; and no sooner learned the cause of her affliction, than he
presented her with his own purse, from which he, in emphatic dumb show,
begged she would indemnify herself for the damage she had sustained.
Although this kind proffer was some alleviation of her misfortunes, she
did not fail to pour forth a most piteous lamentation, importing that
she had not only lost all her money, amounting to five pounds, but also
her letter of recommendation, upon which she had altogether relied for
present employment.
The vehicle was minutely searched from top to bottom, by herself and
our adventurer, assisted by Maurice and the coachman, who, finding
their inquiry ineffectual, did not scruple to declare his suspicion of
the two fat turtles who had deserted the coach in such an abrupt
manner. In a word, he rendered this conjecture so plausible, by
wresting the circumstances of their behaviour and retreat, that poor
Elenor implicitly believed they were the thieves by whom she had
suffered; and was prevailed upon to accept the proffered assistance of
the generous Count, who, seeing her very much disordered by this
mischance, insisted upon her drinking a large glass of canary, to quiet
the perturbation of her spirits. This is a season, which of all others
is most propitious to the attempts of an artful lover; and justifies
the metaphorical maxim of fishing in troubled waters. There is an
affinity and short transition betwixt all the violent passions that
agitate the human mind. They are all false perspectives, which, though
they magnify, yet perplex and render indistinct every object which they
represent. And flattery is never so successfully administered, as to
those who know they stand in need of friendship, assent, and
approbation.
The cordial she swallowed, far from calming, increased the disturbance
of her thoughts, and produced an intoxication; during which, she talked
in an incoherent strain, laughed and wept by turns, and acted other
extravagances, which are known to be symptoms of the hysterical
affection. Fathom, though an utter stranger to the sentiments of
honour, pity, and remorse, would not perpetrate his vicious purpose,
though favoured by the delirium his villany had entailed upon this
unfortunate young maiden; because his appetite demanded a more perfect
sacrifice than that which she could yield in her present deplorable
situation, when her will must have been altogether unconcerned in his
success. Determined, therefore, to make a conquest of her virtue,
before he would take possession of her person, he mimicked that
compassion and benevolence which his heart had never felt, and, when
the coach arrived at London, not only discharged what she owed for her
place, but likewise procured for her an apartment in the house to which
he himself had been directed for lodgings, and even hired a nurse to
attend her during a severe fever, which was the consequence of her
disappointment and despondence. Indeed, she was supplied with all
necessaries by the generosity of this noble Count, who, for the
interest of his passion, and the honour of his name, was resolved to
extend his charity to the last farthing of her own money, which he had
been wise enough to secure for this purpose.
Her youth soon got the better of her distemper, and when she understood
her obligations to the Count, who did not fail to attend her in person
with great tenderness, her heart, which had been before prepossessed in
his favour, now glowed with all the warmth of gratitude, esteem, and
affection. She knew herself in a strange place, destitute of all
resource but in his generosity. She loved his person, she was dazzled
by his rank; and he knew so well how to improve the opportunities and
advantages he derived from her unhappy situation, that he gradually
proceeded in sapping from one degree of intimacy to another, until all
the bulwarks of her chastity were undermined, and she submitted to his
desire; not with the reluctance of a vanquished people, but with all
the transports of a joyful city, that opens its gates to receive a
darling prince returned from conquest. For by this time he had artfully
concentred and kindled up all the inflammable ingredients of her
constitution; and she now looked back upon the virtuous principles of
her education, as upon a disagreeable and tedious dream, from which she
had waked to the fruition of never-fading joy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
HE BY ACCIDENT ENCOUNTERS HIS OLD FRIEND, WITH WHOM HE HOLDS A
CONFERENCE, AND RENEWS A TREATY.
Our hero, having thus provided himself with a proper subject for his
hours of dalliance, thought it was now high time to study the ground
which he had pitched upon for the scene of his exploits, and with that
view made several excursions to different parts of the town, where
there was aught of entertainment or instruction to be found. Yet he
always, on these occasions, appeared in an obscure ordinary dress, in
order to avoid singularity, and never went twice to the same
coffee-house, that his person might not be afterwards known, in case he
should shine forth to the public in a superior sphere. On his return
from one of those expeditions, while he was passing through Ludgate,
his eyes were suddenly encountered by the apparition of his old friend
the Tyrolese, who, perceiving himself fairly caught in the toil, made a
virtue of necessity, and, running up to our adventurer with an aspect
of eagerness and joy, clasped him in his arms, as some dear friend,
whom he had casually found after a most tedious and disagreeable
separation.
Fathom, whose genius never failed him in such emergencies, far from
receiving these advances with the threats and reproaches which the
other had deserved at his hands, returned the salute with equal warmth,
and was really overjoyed at meeting with a person who might one way or
other make amends for the perfidy of his former conduct. The Tyrolese,
whose name was Ratchcali, pleased with his reception, proposed they
should adjourn to the next tavern, in which they had no sooner taken
possession of an apartment, than he addressed himself to his old
companion in these words:—
“Mr. Fathom, by your frank and obliging manner of treating a man who
hath done you wrong, I am more and more confirmed in my opinion of your
sagacity, which I have often considered with admiration; I will not
therefore attempt to make an apology for my conduct at our last
parting; but only assure you that this meeting may turn out to our
mutual advantage, if we now re-enter into an unreserved union, the ties
of which we will soon find it our interest and inclination to preserve.
For my own part, as my judgment is ripened by experience, so are my
sentiments changed since our last association. I have seen many a rich
harvest lost, for want of a fellow-labourer in the vineyard; and I have
more than once fallen a sacrifice to a combination, which I could have
resisted with the help of one able auxiliary. Indeed, I might prove
what I allege by mathematical demonstration; and I believe nobody will
pretend to deny, that two heads are better than one, in all cases that
require discernment and deliberation.”
Ferdinand could not help owning the sanity of his observations, and
forthwith acquiesced in his proposal of the new alliance; desiring to
know the character in which he acted on the English stage, and the
scheme he would offer for their mutual emolument. At the same time he
resolved within himself to keep such a strict eye over his future
actions, as would frustrate any design he might hereafter harbour, of
repeating the prank he had so successfully played upon him, in their
journey from the banks of the Rhine.
“Having quitted you at Bar-le-duc,” resumed the Tyrolese, “I travelled
without ceasing, until I arrived at Frankfort upon the Maine, where I
assumed the character of a French chevalier, and struck some masterly
strokes, which you yourself would not have deemed unworthy of your
invention; and my success was the more agreeable, as my operations were
chiefly carried on against the enemies of our religion. But my
prosperity was not of long duration. Seeing they could not foil me at
my own weapons, they formed a damned conspiracy, by which I not only
lost all the fruits of my industry, but likewise ran the most imminent
hazard of my life. I had ordered some of those jewels which I had
borrowed of my good friend Fathom to be new set in a fashionable taste,
and soon after had an opportunity to sell one of these, at a great
advantage, to one of the fraternity, who offered an extraordinary price
for the stone, on purpose to effect my ruin. In less than
four-and-twenty hours after this bargain, I was arrested by the
officers of justice upon the oath of the purchaser, who undertook to
prove me guilty of a fraud, in selling a Saxon pebble for a real
diamond; and this accusation was actually true; for the change had been
artfully put upon me by the jeweller, who was himself engaged in the
conspiracy.
“Had my conscience been clear of any other impeachment, perhaps I
should have rested my cause upon the equity and protection of the law;
but I foresaw that the trial would introduce an inquiry, to which I was
not at all ambitious of submitting, and therefore was fain to
compromise the affair, at the price of almost my whole fortune. Yet
this accommodation was not made so secretly, but that my character was
blasted, and my credit overthrown; so that I was fain to relinquish my
occasional equipage, and hire myself as journeyman to a lapidary, an
employment which I had exercised in my youth. In this obscure station,
I laboured with great assiduity, until I made myself perfect in the
knowledge of stones, as well as in the different methods of setting
them off to the best advantage; and having, by dint of industry and
address, got possession of a small parcel, set out for this kingdom, in
which I happily arrived about four months ago; and surely England is
the paradise of artists of our profession.
“One would imagine that nature had created the inhabitants for the
support and enjoyment of adventurers like you and me. Not that these
islanders open the arms of hospitality to all foreigners without
distinction. On the contrary, they inherit from their fathers an
unreasonable prejudice against all nations under the sun; and when an
Englishman happens to quarrel with a stranger, the first term of
reproach he uses is the name of his antagonist’s country, characterised
by some opprobrious epithet, such as a chattering Frenchman, an Italian
ape, a German hog, and a beastly Dutchman; nay, their national
prepossession is maintained even against those people with whom they
are united under the same laws and government; for nothing is more
common than to hear them exclaim against their fellow-subjects, in the
expressions of a beggarly Scot, and an impudent Irish bog-trotter. Yet
this very prejudice will never fail to turn to the account of every
stranger possessed of ordinary talents; for he will always find
opportunities of conversing with them in coffee-houses and places of
public resort, in spite of their professed reserve, which, by the bye,
is so extraordinary, that I know some people who have lived twenty
years in the same house without exchanging one word with their
next-door neighbours; yet, provided he can talk sensibly, and preserve
the deportment of a sober gentleman, in those occasional conversations,
his behaviour will be the more remarkably pleasing, as it will
agreeably disappoint the expectation of the person who had entertained
notions to his prejudice. When a foreigner has once crossed this bar,
which perpetually occurs, he sails without further difficulty into the
harbour of an Englishman’s goodwill; for the pique is neither personal
nor rancorous, but rather contemptuous and national; so that, while he
despises a people in the lump, an individual of that very community may
be one of his chief favourites.
“The English are in general upright and honest, therefore unsuspecting
and credulous. They are too much engrossed with their own business to
pry into the conduct of their neighbours, and too indifferent, in point
of disposition, to interest themselves in what they conceive to be
foreign to their own concerns. They are wealthy and mercantile, of
consequence liberal and adventurous, and so well disposed to take a
man’s own word for his importance, that they suffer themselves to be
preyed upon by such a bungling set of impostors, as would starve for
lack of address in any other country under the sun. This being a true
sketch of the British character, so far as I have been able to observe
and learn, you will easily comprehend the profits that may be extracted
from it, by virtue of those arts by which you so eminently excel;—the
great, the unbounded prospect lies before me! Indeed, I look upon this
opulent kingdom as a wide and fertile common, on which we adventurers
may range for prey, without let or molestation. For so jealous are the
natives of their liberties, that they will not bear the restraint of
necessary police, and an able artist may enrich himself with their
spoils, without running any risk of attracting the magistrate, or
incurring the least penalty of the law.
“In a word, this metropolis is a vast masquerade, in which a man of
stratagem may wear a thousand different disguises, without danger of
detection. There is a variety of shapes in which we the knights of
industry make our appearance in London. One glides into a nobleman’s
house in the capacity of a valet-de-chambre, and in a few months leads
the whole family by the nose. Another exhibits himself to the public,
as an empiric or operator for the teeth; and by dint of assurance and
affidavits, bearing testimony to wonderful cures that never were
performed, whirls himself into his chariot, and lays the town under
contribution. A third professes the composition of music, as well as
the performance, and by means of a few capriciosos on the violin,
properly introduced, wriggles himself into the management of private
and public concerts. And a fourth breaks forth at once in all the
splendour of a gay equipage, under the title and denomination of a
foreign count. Not to mention those inferior projectors, who assume the
characters of dancers, fencing-masters, and French ushers, or, by
renouncing their religion, seek to obtain a provision for life.
“Either of these parts will turn to the account of an able actor; and,
as you are equally qualified for all, you may choose that which is most
suitable to your own inclination. Though, in my opinion, you was
designed by nature to shine in the great world, which, after all, is
the most ample field for men of genius; because the game is deeper, and
people of fashion being, for the most part, more ignorant, indolent,
vain, and capricious, than their inferiors, are of consequence more
easily deceived; besides, their morals sit generally so loose about
them, that, when a gentleman of our fraternity is discovered in the
exercise of his profession, their contempt of his skill is the only
disgrace he incurs.”
Our hero was so well pleased with this picture, that he longed to
peruse the original, and, before these two friends parted, they settled
all the operations of the campaign. Ratchcali, that same evening, hired
magnificent lodgings for Count Fathom, in the court end of the town,
and furnished his wardrobe and liveries from the spoils of Monmouth
Street; he likewise enlisted another footman and valet-de-chambre into
his service, and sent to the apartments divers large trunks, supposed
to be filled with the baggage of this foreign nobleman, though, in
reality, they contained little else than common lumber.
Next day, our adventurer took possession of his new habitation, after
having left to his friend and associate the task of dismissing the
unfortunate Elenor, who was so shocked at the unexpected message, that
she fainted away; and when she recovered the use of her senses so well
as to reflect upon her forlorn condition, she was seized with the most
violent transports of grief and dismay, by which her brain was
disordered to such a degree, that she grew furious and distracted, and
was, by the advice and assistance of the Tyrolese, conveyed into the
hospital of Bethlem; where we shall leave her for the present, happily
bereft of her reason.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HE APPEARS IN THE GREAT WORLD WITH UNIVERSAL APPLAUSE AND ADMIRATION.
Meanwhile, Fathom and his engine were busied in completing his
equipage, so that in a few days he had procured a very gay chariot,
adorned with painting, gilding, and a coat of arms, according to his
own fancy and direction. The first use he made of this vehicle was that
of visiting the young nobleman from whom he had received such important
civilities on the road, in consequence of an invitation at parting, by
which he learned his title and the place of his abode in London.
His lordship was not only pleased, but proud to see such a stranger at
his gate, and entertained him with excess of complaisance and
hospitality; insomuch that, by his means, our hero soon became
acquainted with the whole circle of polite company, by whom he was
caressed for his insinuating manners and agreeable conversation. He had
thought proper to tell the nobleman, at their first interview in town,
that his reasons for concealing his knowledge of the English tongue
were now removed, and that he would no longer deny himself the pleasure
of speaking a language which had been always music to his ear. He had
also thanked his lordship for his generous interposition at the inn,
which was an instance of that generosity and true politeness which are
engrossed by the English people, who leave nought to other nations but
the mere shadow of these virtues.
A testimony like this, from the mouth of such a noble stranger, won the
heart of the peer, who professed a friendship for him on the spot, and
undertook to see justice done to his lacquey, who in a short time was
gratified with a share of the seizure which had been made upon his
information, amounting to fifty or sixty pounds.
Ferdinand put not forth the whole strength of his accomplishments at
once, but contrived to spring a new mine of qualification every day, to
the surprise and admiration of all his acquaintance. He was gifted with
a sort of elocution, much more specious than solid, and spoke on every
subject that occurred in conversation with that familiarity and ease,
which, one would think, could only be acquired by long study and
application. This plausibility and confidence are faculties really
inherited from nature, and effectually serve the possessor, in lieu of
that learning which is not to be obtained without infinite toil and
perseverance. The most superficial tincture of the arts and sciences in
such a juggler, is sufficient to dazzle the understanding of half
mankind; and, if managed with circumspection, will enable him even to
spend his life among the literati, without once forfeiting the
character of a connoisseur.
Our hero was perfectly master of this legerdemain, which he carried to
such a pitch of assurance, as to declare, in the midst of a
mathematical assembly, that he intended to gratify the public with a
full confutation of Sir Isaac Newton’s philosophy, to the nature of
which he was as much a stranger as the most savage Hottentot in Africa.
His pretensions to profound and universal knowledge were supported not
only by this kind of presumption, but also by the facility with which
he spoke so many different languages, and the shrewd remarks he had
made in the course of his travels and observation.
Among politicians, he settled the balance of power upon a certain
footing, by dint of ingenious schemes, which he had contrived for the
welfare of Europe. With officers, he reformed the art of war, with
improvements which had occurred to his reflection while he was engaged
in a military life. He sometimes held forth upon painting, like a
member of the Dilettanti club. The theory of music was a theme upon
which he seemed to expatiate with particular pleasure. In the provinces
of love and gallantry, he was a perfect Oroondates. He possessed a most
agreeable manner of telling entertaining stories, of which he had a
large collection; he sung with great melody and taste, and played upon
the violin with surprising execution. To these qualifications let us
add his affability and pliant disposition, and then the reader will not
wonder that he was looked upon as the pattern of human perfection, and
his acquaintance courted accordingly.
While he thus captivated the favour and affection of the English
nobility, he did not neglect to take other measures in behalf of the
partnership to which he had subscribed. The adventure with the two
squires at Paris had weakened his appetite for play, which was not at
all restored by the observations he had made in London, where the art
of gaming is reduced into a regular system, and its professors so
laudably devoted to the discharge of their functions, as to observe the
most temperate regimen, lest their invention should be impaired by the
fatigue of watching or exercise, and their ideas disturbed by the fumes
of indigestion. No Indian Brachman could live more abstemious than two
of the pack, who hunted in couple, and kennelled in the upper
apartments of the hotel in which our adventurer lived. They abstained
from animal food with the abhorrence of Pythagoreans, their drink was a
pure simple element, they were vomited once a week, took physic or a
glyster every third day, spent the forenoon in algebraical
calculations, and slept from four o’clock till midnight, that they
might then take the field with that cool serenity which is the effect
of refreshment and repose.
These were terms upon which our hero would not risk his fortune; he was
too much addicted to pleasure to forego every other enjoyment but that
of amassing; and did not so much depend upon his dexterity in play as
upon his talent of insinuation, which, by this time, had succeeded so
far beyond his expectation, that he began to indulge the hope of
enslaving the heart of some rich heiress, whose fortune would at once
raise him above all dependence. Indeed, no man ever set out with a
fairer prospect on such an expedition; for he had found means to render
himself so agreeable to the fair sex, that, like the boxes of the
playhouse, during the representation of a new performance, his company
was often bespoke for a series of weeks; and no lady, whether widow,
wife, or maiden, ever mentioned his name, without some epithet of
esteem or affection; such as the dear Count! the charming Man! the
Nonpareil, or the Angel!
While he thus shone in the zenith of admiration, it is not to be
doubted, that he could have melted some wealthy dowager or opulent
ward; but, being an enemy to all precipitate engagements, he resolved
to act with great care and deliberation in an affair of such
importance, especially as he did not find himself hurried by the
importunities of want; for, since his arrival in England, he had rather
increased than exhausted his finances, by methods equally certain and
secure. In a word, he, with the assistance of Ratchcali, carried on a
traffic, which yielded great profits, without subjecting the trader to
the least loss or inconvenience. Fathom, for example, wore upon his
finger a large brilliant, which he played to such advantage one night,
at a certain nobleman’s house, where he was prevailed upon to entertain
the company with a solo on the violin, that everybody present took
notice of its uncommon lustre, and it was handed about for the perusal
of every individual. The water and the workmanship were universally
admired; and one among the rest having expressed a desire of knowing
the value of such a jewel, the Count seized that opportunity of
entertaining them with a learned disquisition into the nature of
stones; this introduced the history of the diamond in question, which
he said had been purchased of an Indian trader of Fort St. George, at
an under price; so that the present proprietor could afford to sell it
at a very reasonable rate; and concluded with telling the company,
that, for his own part, he had been importuned to wear it by the
jeweller, who imagined it would have a better chance for attracting a
purchaser on his finger, than while it remained in his own custody.
This declaration was no sooner made, than a certain lady of quality
bespoke the refuse of the jewel, and desired Ferdinand to send the
owner next day to her house, where he accordingly waited upon her
ladyship with the ring, for which he received one hundred and fifty
guineas, two-thirds of the sum being clear gain, and equally divided
betwixt the associates. Nor was this bargain such as reflected
dishonour upon the lady’s taste, or could be productive of ill
consequences to the merchant; for the method of estimating diamonds is
altogether arbitrary; and Ratchcali, who was an exquisite lapidary, had
set it in such a manner as would have imposed upon any ordinary
jeweller. By these means of introduction, the Tyrolese soon monopolised
the custom of a great many noble families, upon which he levied large
contributions, without incurring the least suspicion of deceit. He
every day, out of pure esteem and gratitude for the honour of their
commands, entertained them with the sight of some new trinket, which he
was never permitted to carry home unsold; and from the profits of each
job, a tax was raised for the benefit of our adventurer.
Yet his indultos were not confined to the article of jewels, which
constituted only one part of his revenue. By the industry of his
understrapper, he procured a number of old crazy fiddles, which were
thrown aside as lumber; upon which he counterfeited the Cremona mark,
and otherwise cooked them up with great dexterity; so that, when he had
occasion to regale the lovers of music, he would send for one of these
vamped instruments, and extract from it such tones as quite ravished
the hearers; among whom there was always some conceited pretender, who
spoke in raptures of the violin, and gave our hero an opportunity of
launching out in its praise, and declaring it was the best Cremona he
had ever touched. This encomium never failed to inflame the desires of
the audience, to some one of whom he was generous enough to part with
it at prime cost—that is, for twenty or thirty guineas clear profit;
for he was often able to oblige his friends in this manner, because,
being an eminent connoisseur, his countenance was solicited by all the
musicians, who wanted to dispose of such moveables.
Nor did he neglect the other resources of a skilful virtuoso. Every
auction afforded some picture, in which, though it had been overlooked
by the ignorance of the times, he recognised the style of a great
master, and made a merit of recommending it to some noble friend. This
commerce he likewise extended to medals, bronzes, busts, intaglios, and
old china, and kept divers artificers continually employed in making
antiques for the English nobility. Thus he went on with such rapidity
of success in all his endeavours, that he himself was astonished at the
infatuation he had produced. Nothing was so wretched among the
productions of art, that he could not impose upon the world as a
capital performance; and so fascinated were the eyes of his admirers,
he could easily have persuaded them that a barber’s bason was an
Etrurian patera, and the cover of a copper pot no other than the shield
of Ancus Martius. In short, it was become so fashionable to consult the
Count in everything relating to taste and politeness, that not a plan
was drawn, not even a house furnished, without his advice and
approbation; nay, to such a degree did his reputation in these matters
excel, that a particular pattern of paper-hangings was known by the
name of Fathom; and his hall was every morning crowded with
upholsterers, and other tradesmen, who came, by order of their
employers, to learn his choice, and take his directions.
The character and influence he thus acquired, he took care to maintain
with the utmost assiduity and circumspection. He never failed to appear
the chief personage at all public diversions and private assemblies,
not only in conversation and dress, but also in the article of dancing,
in which he outstripped all his fellows, as far as in every other
genteel accomplishment.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
HE ATTRACTS THE ENVY AND ILL OFFICES OF THE MINOR KNIGHTS OF HIS OWN
ORDER, OVER WHOM HE OBTAINS A COMPLETE VICTORY.
Such a pre-eminence could not be enjoyed without exciting the
malevolence of envy and detraction, in the propagation of which none
were so industrious as the brethren of his own order, who had, like
him, made a descent upon this island, and could not, without repining,
see the whole harvest in the hands of one man, who, with equal art and
discretion, avoided all intercourse with their society. In vain they
strove to discover his pedigree, and detect the particular
circumstances of his life and conversation; all their inquiries were
baffled by the obscurity of his origin, and that solitary scheme which
he had adopted in the beginning of his career. The whole fruit of their
investigation amounted to no more than a certainty that there was no
family of any consideration in Europe known by the denomination of
Fathom; and this discovery they did not fail to divulge for the benefit
of our adventurer, who had by this time taken such firm root in the
favour of the great, as to set all those little arts at defiance; and
when the report reached his ear, actually made his friends merry with
the conjectures which had been circulated at his expense.
His adversaries, finding themselves disappointed in this effort, held a
consultation to devise other measures against him, and came to a
resolution of ending him by the sword, or rather of expelling him from
the kingdom by the fear of death, which they hoped he had not courage
enough to resist, because his deportment had always been remarkably
mild and pacific. It was upon this supposition that they left to the
determination of the dice the choice of the person who should execute
their plan; and the lot falling upon a Swiss, who, from the station of
a foot soldier in the Dutch service, out of which he had been drummed
for theft, had erected himself into the rank of a self-created
chevalier, this hero fortified himself with a double dose of brandy,
and betook himself to a certain noted coffee-house, with an intent to
affront Count Fathom in public.
He was lucky enough to find our adventurer sitting at a table in
conversation with some persons of the first rank; upon which he seated
himself in the next box, and after having intruded himself into their
discourse, which happened to turn upon the politics of some German
courts, “Count,” said he to Ferdinand, in a very abrupt and
disagreeable manner of address, “I was last night in company with some
gentlemen, among whom a dispute happened about the place of your
nativity; pray, what country are you of?” “Sir,” answered the other,
with great politeness, “I at present have the honour to be of England.”
“Oho!” replied the chevalier, “I ask your pardon, that is to say, you
are incog; some people may find it convenient to keep themselves in
that situation.” “True,” said the Count, “but some people are too well
known to enjoy that privilege.” The Swiss being a little disconcerted
at this repartee, which extracted a smile from the audience, after some
pause, observed, that persons of a certain class had good reason to
drop the remembrance of what they have been; but a good citizen will
not forget his country, or former condition. “And a bad citizen,” said
Fathom, “cannot, if he would, provided he has met with his deserts; a
sharper may as well forget the shape of a die, or a discarded soldier
the sound of a drum.”
As the chevalier’s character and story were not unknown, this
application raised an universal laugh at his expense, which provoked
him to such a degree, that, starting up, he swore Fathom could not have
mentioned any object in nature that he himself resembled so much as a
drum, which was exactly typified by his emptiness and sound, with this
difference, however, that a drum was never noisy till beaten, whereas
the Count would never be quiet, until he should have undergone the same
discipline. So saying, he laid his hand upon his sword with a menacing
look, and walked out as if in expectation of being followed by our
adventurer, who suffered himself to be detained by the company, and
very calmly took notice, that his antagonist would not be ill pleased
at their interposition. Perhaps he would not have comported himself
with such ease and deliberation, had not he made such remarks upon the
disposition of the chevalier, as convinced him of his own safety. He
had perceived a perplexity and perturbation in the countenance of the
Swiss, when he first entered the coffee-room; his blunt and precipitate
way of accosting him seemed to denote confusion and compulsion; and, in
the midst of his ferocity, this accurate observer discerned the
trepidation of fear. By the help of these signs, his sagacity soon
comprehended the nature of his schemes, and prepared accordingly for a
formal defiance.
His conjecture was verified next morning by a visit from the chevalier,
who, taking it for granted that Fathom would not face an adversary in
the field, because he had not followed him from the coffee-house, went
to his lodgings with great confidence, and demanded to see the Count
upon an affair that would admit of no delay. Maurice, according to his
instructions, told him that his master was gone out, but desired he
would have the goodness to repose himself in the parlour, till the
Count’s return, which he expected every moment. Ferdinand, who had
taken post in a proper place for observation, seeing his antagonist
fairly admitted, took the same road, and appearing before him, wrapped
up in a long Spanish cloak, desired to know what had procured him the
honour of such an early visit. The Swiss, raising his voice to conceal
his agitation, explained his errand, in demanding reparation for the
injury his honour had sustained the preceding day, in that odious
allusion to a scandalous report which had been raised by the malice of
his enemies; and insisted, in a very imperious style, upon his
attending him forthwith to the nursery in Hyde Park. “Have a little
patience,” said our adventurer with great composure, “and I will do
myself the pleasure to wait upon you in a few moments.”
With these words, he rang the bell, and, calling for a bason of water,
laid aside his cloak, and displayed himself in his shirt, with a sword
in his right hand, which was all over besmeared with recent blood, as
if he had just come from the slaughter of a foe. This phenomenon made
such an impression upon the astonished chevalier, already discomposed
by the resolute behaviour of the Count, that he became jaundiced with
terror and dismay, and, while his teeth chattered in his head, told our
hero he had hoped, from his known politeness, to have found him ready
to acknowledge an injury which might have been the effect of anger or
misapprehension, in which case the affair might have been compromised
to their mutual satisfaction, without proceeding to those extremities
which, among men of honour, are always accounted the last resource. To
this representation Ferdinand answered, that the affair had been of the
chevalier’s own seeking, inasmuch as he had intruded himself into his
company, and treated him with the most insolent and unprovoked abuse,
which plainly flowed from a premeditated design against his honour and
reputation; he, therefore, far from being disposed to own himself in
the wrong, would not even accept of a public acknowledgment from him,
the aggressor, whom he looked upon as an infamous sharper, and was
resolved to chastise accordingly.
Here the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a person who
was brought to the door in a chair, and conducted into another
apartment, from which a message was brought to the Count, importing,
that the stranger desired to speak with him upon business of the last
importance. Fathom having chid the servant for admitting people without
his order, desired the Swiss to excuse him for a minute longer, and
went in to the next room, from whence the following dialogue was
overheard by this challenger:—“Count,” said the stranger, “you are not
ignorant of my pretensions to the heart of that young lady, at whose
house I met you yesterday; therefore you cannot be surprised when I
declare myself displeased with your visits and behaviour to my
mistress, and demand that you will instantly promise to drop the
correspondence.” “Else what follows?” answered Ferdinand, with a cool
and temperate voice. “My resentment and immediate defiance,” replied
the other; “for the only alternative I propose is, to forego your
design upon that lady, or to decide our pretension by the sword.”
Our hero, having expressed a regard for this visitant as the son of a
gentleman whom he honoured, was at the pains to represent the
unreasonableness of his demand, and the folly of his presumption; and
earnestly exhorted him to put the issue of his cause upon a more safe
and equitable footing. But this admonition, instead of appeasing the
wrath, seemed to inflame the resentment of the opponent, who swore he
would not leave him until he should have accomplished the purport of
his errand. In vain our adventurer requested half an hour for the
despatch of some urgent business, in which he was engaged with a
gentleman in the other parlour. This impetuous rival rejected all the
terms he could propose, and even challenged him to decide the
controversy upon the spot; an expedient to which the other having
assented with reluctance, the door was secured, the swords unsheathed,
and a hot engagement ensued, to the inexpressible pleasure of the
Swiss, who did not doubt that he himself would be screened from all
danger by the event of this rencontre. Nevertheless, his hope was
disappointed in the defeat of the stranger, who was quickly disarmed,
in consequence of a wound through the sword-arm; upon which occasion
Fathom was heard to say, that, in consideration of his youth and
family, he had spared his life; but he would not act with the same
tenderness towards any other antagonist. He then bound up the limb he
had disabled, conducted the vanquished party to his chair, rejoined the
chevalier with a serene countenance, and, asking pardon for having
detained him so long, proposed they should instantly set out in a
hackney-coach for the place of appointment.
The stratagem thus conducted, had all the success the inventor could
desire. The fear of the Swiss had risen almost to an ecstasy before the
Count quitted the room; but after this sham battle, which had been
preconcerted betwixt our adventurer and his friend Ratchcali, the
chevalier’s terrors were unspeakable. He considered Fathom as a devil
incarnate, and went into the coach as a malefactor bound for Tyburn. He
would have gladly compounded for the loss of a leg or arm, and
entertained some transient gleams of hope, that he should escape for
half a dozen flesh-wounds, which he would have willingly received as
the price of his presumption; but these hopes were banished by the
remembrance of that dreadful declaration which he had heard the Count
make, after having overcome his last adversary; and he continued under
the power of the most unsupportable panic, until the carriage halted at
Hyde Park Corner, where he crawled forth in a most piteous and
lamentable condition; so that, when they reached the spot, he was
scarce able to stand.
Here he made an effort to speak, and propose an accommodation upon a
new plan, by which he promised to leave his cause to the arbitrement of
those gentlemen who were present at the rupture, and to ask pardon of
the Count, provided he should be found guilty of a trespass upon good
manners; but this proposal would not satisfy the implacable Ferdinand,
who, perceiving the agony of the Swiss, resolved to make the most of
the adventure, and giving him to understand he was not a man to be
trifled with, desired him to draw without further preamble. Thus
compelled, the unfortunate gamester pulled off his coat, and, putting
himself in a posture, to use the words of Nym, “winked, and held out
his cold iron.”
Our adventurer, far from making a gentle use of the advantages he
possessed, fiercely attacked him, while he was incapable of making
resistance, and, aiming at a fleshy part, ran him through the arm and
outside of the shoulder at the very first pass. The chevalier, already
stupefied with the horror of expectation, no sooner felt his
adversary’s point in his body than he fell to the ground, and,
concluding he was no longer a man for this world, began to cross
himself with great devotion; while Fathom walked home deliberately, and
in his way sent a couple of chairmen to the assistance of the wounded
knight.
This achievement, which could not be concealed from the knowledge of
the public, not only furnished the character of Fathom with fresh
wreaths of admiration and applause, but likewise effectually secured
him from any future attempts of his enemies, to whom the Swiss, for his
own sake, had communicated such terrible ideas of his valour, as
overawed the whole community.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
HE PERFORMS ANOTHER EXPLOIT, THAT CONVEYS A TRUE IDEA OF HIS GRATITUDE
AND HONOUR.
It was not long after this celebrated victory, that he was invited to
spend part of the summer at the house of a country gentleman, who lived
about one hundred miles from London, possessed of a very opulent
fortune, the greatest part of which was expended in acts of old English
hospitality. He had met with our hero by accident at the table of a
certain great man, and was so struck with his manner and conversation,
as to desire his acquaintance, and cultivate his friendship; and he
thought himself extremely happy in having prevailed upon him to pass a
few weeks in his family.
Fathom, among his other observations, perceived that there was a
domestic uneasiness, occasioned by a very beautiful young creature
about the age of fifteen, who resided in the house under the title of
the gentleman’s niece, though she was in reality his natural daughter,
born before his marriage. This circumstance was not unknown to his
lady, by whose express approbation he had bestowed particular attention
upon the education of the child, whom we shall distinguish by the name
of Celinda. Their liberality in this particular had not been
misapplied; for she not only gave marks of uncommon capacity, but, as
she grew up, became more and more amiable in her person, and was now
returned from the boarding school, possessed of every accomplishment
that could be acquired by one of her age and opportunities. These
qualifications, which endeared her to every other person, excited the
jealousy and displeasure of her supposed aunt, who could not bear to
see her own children eclipsed by this illegitimate daughter, whom she
therefore discountenanced upon all occasions, and exposed to such
mortifications as would in all appearance drive her from her father’s
house. This persecuting spirit was very disagreeable to the husband,
who loved Celinda with a truly paternal affection, and produced
abundance of family disquiet; but being a man of a peaceable and
yielding disposition, he could not long maintain the resolution he had
taken in her favour, and therefore he ceased opposing the malevolence
of his wife.
In this unfortunate predicament stood the fair bastard, at the arrival
of our adventurer, who, being allured by her charms, apprised of her
situation at the same time, took the generous resolution to undermine
her innocence, that he might banquet his vicious appetite with the
spoils of her beauty. Perhaps such a brutal design might not have
entered his imagination, if he had not observed, in the disposition of
this hapless maiden, certain peculiarities from which he derived the
most confident presages of success. Besides a total want of experience,
that left her open and unguarded against the attacks of the other sex,
she discovered a remarkable spirit of credulity and superstitious fear,
which had been cherished by the conversation of her school-fellows. She
was particularly fond of music, in which she had made some progress;
but so delicate was the texture of her nerves, that one day, while
Fathom entertained the company with a favourite air, she actually
swooned with pleasure.
Such sensibility, our projector well knew, must be diffused through all
the passions of her heart; he congratulated himself upon the sure
ascendency he had gained over her in this particular; and forthwith
began to execute the plan he had erected for her destruction. That he
might the more effectually deceive the vigilance of her father’s wife,
he threw such a dash of affectation in his complaisance towards
Celinda, as could not escape the notice of that prying matron, though
it was not palpable enough to disoblige the young lady herself, who
could not so well distinguish between overstrained courtesy and real
good breeding. This behaviour screened him from the suspicion of the
family, who considered it as an effort of politeness, to cover his
indifference and disgust for the daughter of his friend, who had by
this time given some reason to believe she looked upon him with the
eyes of affection; so that the opportunities he enjoyed of conversing
with her in private, were less liable to intrusion or inquiry. Indeed,
from what I have already observed, touching the sentiments of her
stepdame, that lady, far from taking measures for thwarting our hero’s
design, would have rejoiced at the execution of it, and, had she been
informed of his intent, might have fallen upon some method to
facilitate the enterprise; but, as he solely depended upon his own
talents, he never dreamed of soliciting such an auxiliary.
Under cover of instructing and accomplishing her in the exercise of
music, he could not want occasions for promoting his aim; when, after
having soothed her sense of hearing, even to a degree of ravishment, so
as to extort from her an exclamation, importing, that he was surely
something supernatural! he never failed to whisper some insidious
compliment or tale of love, exquisitely suited to the emotions of her
soul. Thus was her heart insensibly subdued; though more than half his
work was still undone; for, at all times, she disclosed such purity of
sentiment, such inviolable attachment to religion and virtue, and
seemed so averse to all sorts of inflammatory discourse, that he durst
not presume upon the footing he had gained in her affection, to explain
the baseness of his desire; he therefore applied to another of her
passions, that proved the bane of her virtue. This was her timidity,
which at first being constitutional, was afterwards increased by the
circumstances of her education, and now aggravated by the artful
conversation of Fathom, which he chequered with dismal stories of
omens, portents, prophecies, and apparitions, delivered upon such
unquestionable testimony, and with such marks of conviction, as
captivated the belief of the devoted Celinda, and filled her
imagination with unceasing terrors.
In vain she strove to dispel those frightful ideas, and avoid such
topics of discourse for the future. The more she endeavoured to banish
them, the more troublesome they became; and such was her infatuation,
that as her terrors increased, her thirst after that sort of knowledge
was augmented. Many sleepless nights did she pass amidst those horrors
of fancy, starting at every noise, and sweating with dreary
apprehension, yet ashamed to own her fears, or solicit the comfort of a
bedfellow, lest she should incur the ridicule and censure of her
father’s wife; and what rendered this disposition the more irksome, was
the solitary situation of her chamber, that stood at the end of a long
gallery scarce within hearing of any other inhabited part of the house.
All these circumstances had been duly weighed by our projector, who,
having prepared Celinda for his purpose, stole at midnight from his
apartment, which was in another storey, and approaching her door, there
uttered a piteous groan; then softly retired to his bed, in full
confidence of seeing next day the effect of this operation. Nor did his
arrow miss the mark. Poor Celinda’s countenance gave such indications
of melancholy and dismay, that he could not omit asking the cause of
her disquiet, and she, at his earnest request, was prevailed upon to
communicate the dreadful salutation of the preceding night, which she
considered as an omen of death to some person of the family, in all
probability to herself, as the groan seemed to issue from one corner of
her own apartment. Our adventurer argued against this supposition, as
contradictory to the common observation of those supernatural warnings
which are not usually imparted to the person who is doomed to die, but
to some faithful friend, or trusty servant, particularly interested in
the event. He therefore supposed, that the groans foreboded the death
of my lady, who seemed to be in a drooping state of health, and were,
by her genius, conveyed to the organs of Celinda, who was the chief
sufferer by her jealous and barbarous disposition; he likewise
expressed an earnest desire to be an ear-witness of such solemn
communication, and, alleging that it was highly improper for a young
lady of her delicate feelings to expose herself alone to such another
dismal visitation, begged he might be allowed to watch all night in her
chamber, in order to defend her from the shocking impressions of fear.
Though no person ever stood more in need of a companion or guard, and
her heart throbbed with transports of dismay at the prospect of night,
she rejected his proposal with due acknowledgment, and resolved to
trust solely to the protection of Heaven. Not that she thought her
innocence or reputation could suffer by her compliance with his
request; for, hitherto, her heart was a stranger to those young desires
which haunt the fancy, and warm the breast of youth; so that, being
ignorant of her danger, she saw not the necessity of avoiding
temptation; but she refused to admit a man into her bedchamber, merely
because it was a step altogether opposite to the forms and decorum of
life. Nevertheless, far from being discouraged by this repulse, he knew
her fears would multiply and reduce that reluctance, which, in order to
weaken, he had recourse to another piece of machinery, that operated
powerfully in behalf of his design.
Some years ago, a twelve-stringed instrument was contrived by a very
ingenious musician, by whom it was aptly entitled the “Harp of Aeolus,”
because, being properly applied to a stream of air, it produces a wild
irregular variety of harmonious sounds, that seem to be the effect of
enchantment, and wonderfully dispose the mind for the most romantic
situations. Fathom, who was really a virtuoso in music, had brought one
of those new-fashioned guitars into the country, and as the effect of
it was still unknown in the family, he that night converted it to the
purposes of his amour, by fixing it in the casement of a window
belonging to the gallery, exposed to the west wind, which then blew in
a gentle breeze. The strings no sooner felt the impression of the balmy
zephyr, than they began to pour forth a stream of melody more
ravishingly delightful than the song of Philomel, the warbling brook,
and all the concert of the wood. The soft and tender notes of peace and
love were swelled up with the most delicate and insensible transition
into a loud hymn of triumph and exultation, joined by the deep-toned
organ, and a full choir of voices, which gradually decayed upon the
ear, until it died away in distant sound, as if a flight of angels had
raised the song in their ascent to heaven. Yet the chords hardly ceased
to vibrate after the expiration of this overture, which ushered in a
composition in the same pathetic style; and this again was succeeded by
a third, almost without pause or intermission, as if the artist’s hand
had been indefatigable, and the theme never to be exhausted.
His heart must be quite callous, and his ear lost to all distinction,
who could hear such harmony without emotion; how deeply, then, must it
have affected the delicate Celinda, whose sensations, naturally acute,
were whetted to a most painful keenness by her apprehension; who could
have no previous idea of such entertainment, and was credulous enough
to believe the most improbable tale of superstition! She was
overwhelmed with awful terror, and, never doubting that the sounds were
more than mortal, recommended herself to the care of Providence in a
succession of pious ejaculations.
Our adventurer, having allowed some time for the effect of this
contrivance, repaired to her chamber door, and, in a whisper, conveyed
through the keyhole, asked if she was awake, begged pardon for such an
unseasonable visit, and desired to know her opinion of the strange
music which he then heard. In spite of her notions of decency, she was
glad of his intrusion, and, being in no condition to observe
punctilios, slipped on a wrapper, opened the door, and, with a
faltering voice, owned herself frightened almost to distraction. He
pretended to console her with reflections, importing, that she was in
the hands of a benevolent Being, who would not impose upon his
creatures any task which they could not bear; he insisted upon her
returning to bed, and assured her he would not stir from her chamber
till day. Thus comforted, she betook herself again to rest, while he
sat down in an elbow-chair at some distance from the bedside, and, in a
soft voice, began the conversation with her on the subject of those
visitations from above, which, though undertaken on pretence of
dissipating her fear and anxiety, was, in reality, calculated for the
purpose of augmenting both.
“That sweet air,” said he, “seems designed for soothing the bodily
anguish of some saint in his last moments. Hark! how it rises into a
more sprightly and elevated strain, as if it were an inspiriting
invitation to the realms of bliss! Sure, he is now absolved from all
the misery of this life! That full and glorious concert of voices and
celestial harps betoken his reception among the heavenly choir, who now
waft his soul to paradisian joys! This is altogether great, solemn, and
amazing! The clock strikes one, the symphony hath ceased!”
This was actually the case; for he had ordered Maurice to remove the
instrument at that hour, lest the sound of it should become too
familiar, and excite the curiosity of some undaunted domestic, who
might frustrate his scheme by discovering the apparatus. As for poor
Celinda, her fancy was, by his music and discourse, worked up to the
highest pitch of enthusiastic terrors; the whole bed shook with her
trepidation, the awful silence that succeeded the supernatural music
threw an additional damp upon her spirits, and the artful Fathom
affecting to snore at the same time, she could no longer contain her
horror, but called upon his name with a fearful accent, and, having
owned her present situation insupportable, entreated him to draw near
her bedside, that he might be within touch on any emergency.
This was a welcome request to our adventurer, who, asking pardon for
his drowsiness, and taking his station on the side of her bed, exhorted
her to compose herself; then locking her hand fast in his own, was
again seized with such an inclination to sleep, that he gradually sunk
down by her side, and seemed to enjoy his repose in that attitude.
Meanwhile, his tender-hearted mistress, that he might not suffer in his
health by his humanity and complaisance, covered him with the
counterpane as he slept, and suffered him to take his rest without
interruption, till he thought proper to start up suddenly with an
exclamation of, “Heaven watch over us!” and then asked, with symptoms
of astonishment, if she had heard nothing. Such an abrupt address upon
such an occasion, did not fail to amaze and affright the gentle
Celinda, who, unable to speak, sprung towards her treacherous
protector; and he, catching her in his arms, bade her fear nothing, for
he would, at the expense of his life, defend her from all danger.
Having thus, by tampering with her weakness, conquered the first and
chief obstacles to his design, he, with great art and perseverance,
improved the intercourse to such a degree of intimacy, as could not but
be productive of all the consequences which he had foreseen. The groans
and music were occasionally repeated, so as to alarm the whole family,
and inspire a thousand various conjectures. He failed not to continue
his nocturnal visits and ghastly discourse, until his attendance became
so necessary to this unhappy maiden, that she durst not stay in her own
chamber without his company, nor even sleep, except in contact with her
betrayer.
Such a commerce between two such persons of a different sex could not
possibly be long carried on, without degenerating from the Platonic
system of sentimental love. In her paroxysms of dismay, he did not
forget to breathe the soft inspirations of his passion, to which she
listened with more pleasure, as they diverted the gloomy ideas of her
fear; and by this time his extraordinary accomplishments had made a
conquest of her heart. What therefore could be a more interesting
transition than that from the most uneasy to the most agreeable
sensation of the human breast?
This being the case, the reader will not wonder that a consummate
traitor, like Fathom, should triumph over the virtue of an artless,
innocent young creature, whose passions he had entirely under his
command. The gradations towards vice are almost imperceptible, and an
experienced seducer can strew them with such enticing and agreeable
flowers, as will lead the young sinner on insensibly, even to the most
profligate stages of guilt. All therefore that can be done by virtue,
unassisted with experience, is to avoid every trial with such a
formidable foe, by declining and discouraging the first advances
towards a particular correspondence with perfidious man, howsoever
agreeable it may seem to be. For here is no security but in conscious
weakness.
Fathom, though possessed of the spoils of poor Celinda’s honour, did
not enjoy his success with tranquillity. Reflection and remorse often
invaded her in the midst of their guilty pleasures, and embittered all
those moments they had dedicated to mutual bliss. For the seeds of
virtue are seldom destroyed at once. Even amidst the rank productions
of vice, they regerminate to a sort of imperfect vegetation, like some
scattered hyacinths shooting up among the weeds of a ruined garden,
that testify the former culture and amenity of the soil. She sighed at
the sad remembrance of that virgin dignity which she had lost; she wept
at the prospect of that disgrace, mortification, and misery she should
undergo, when abandoned by this transient lover, and severely
reproached him for the arts he had used to shipwreck her innocence and
peace.
Such expostulations are extremely unseasonable, when addressed to a man
well-nigh sated with the effects of his conquest. They act like strong
blasts of wind applied to embers almost extinguished, which, instead of
reviving the flame, scatter and destroy every remaining particle of
fire. Our adventurer, in the midst of his peculiarities, had
inconstancy in common with the rest of his sex. More than half cloyed
with the possession of Celinda, he could not fail to be disgusted with
her upbraidings; and had she not been the daughter of a gentleman whose
friendship he did not think it his interest to forfeit, he would have
dropped this correspondence, without reluctance or hesitation. But, as
he had measures to keep with a family of such consequence, he
constrained his inclinations, so far as to counterfeit those raptures
he no longer felt, and found means to appease those intervening tumults
of her grief.
Foreseeing, however, that it would not be always in his power to
console her on these terms, he resolved, if possible, to divide her
affection, which now glowed upon him too intensely; and, with that
view, whenever she complained of the vapours or dejection, he
prescribed, and even insisted upon her swallowing certain cordials of
the most palatable composition, without which he never travelled; and
these produced such agreeable reveries and flow of spirits, that she
gradually became enamoured of intoxication; while he encouraged the
pernicious passion, by expressing the most extravagant applause and
admiration at the wild irregular sallies it produced. Without having
first made this diversion, he would have found it impracticable to
leave the house with tranquillity; but, when this bewitching philtre
grew into an habit, her attachment to Ferdinand was insensibly
dissolved; she began to bear his neglect with indifference, and,
sequestering herself from the rest of the family, used to solicit this
new ally for consolation.
Having thus put the finishing stroke to the daughter’s ruin, he took
leave of the father, with many acknowledgments and expressions of
gratitude for his hospitality and friendship, and, riding across the
country to Bristol, took up his habitation near the hot well, where he
stayed during the remaining part of the season. As for the miserable
Celinda, she became more and more addicted to the vices in which she
had been initiated by his superlative perfidy and craft, until she was
quite abandoned by decency and caution. Her father’s heart was torn
with anguish, while his wife rejoiced in her fall; at length her ideas
were quite debased by her infirmity; she grew every day more and more
sensual and degenerate, and contracted an intimacy with one of the
footmen, who was kind enough to take her to wife, in hope of obtaining
a good settlement from his master; but, being disappointed in his aim,
he conducted her to London, where he made shift to insinuate himself
into another service, leaving her to the use, and partly the advantage,
of her own person, which was still uncommonly attractive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
HE REPAIRS TO BRISTOL SPRING, WHERE HE REIGNS PARAMOUNT DURING THE
WHOLE SEASON.
We shall therefore leave her in this comfortable situation, and return
to our adventurer, whose appearance at Bristol was considered as a
happy omen by the proprietor of the hot well, and all the people who
live by the resort of company to that celebrated spring. Nor were they
deceived in their prognostic. Fathom, as usual, formed the nucleus or
kernel of the beau monde; and the season soon became so crowded, that
many people of fashion were obliged to quit the place for want of
lodging. Ferdinand was the soul that animated the whole society. He not
only invented parties of pleasure, but also, by his personal talents,
rendered them more agreeable. In a word, he regulated their diversions,
and the master of the ceremonies never would allow the ball to be begun
till the Count was seated.
Having thus made himself the object of admiration and esteem, his
advice was an oracle, to which they had recourse in all doubtful cases
of punctilio or dispute, or even of medicine; for among his other
accomplishments, his discourse on that subject was so plausible, and
well adapted to the understanding of his hearers, that any person who
had not actually studied the medical art would have believed he was
inspired by the spirit of Aesculapius. What contributed to the
aggrandisement of his character in this branch of knowledge, was a
victory he obtained over an old physician, who plied at the well, and
had one day unfortunately begun to harangue in the pump-room upon the
nature of the Bristol water. In the course of this lecture he undertook
to account for the warmth of the fluid; and his ideas being perplexed
with a great deal of reading, which he had not been able to digest, his
disquisition was so indistinct, and his expression so obscure and
unentertaining, that our hero seized the opportunity of displaying his
own erudition, by venturing to contradict some circumstances of the
doctor’s hypothesis, and substituting a theory of his own, which, as he
had invented it for the purpose, was equally amusing and chimerical.
He alleged, that fire was the sole vivifying principle that pervaded
all nature; that, as the heat of the sun concocted the juice of
vegetables, and ripened those fruits that grow upon the surface of this
globe, there was likewise an immense store of central fire reserved
within the bowels of the earth, not only for the generation of gems,
fossils, and all the purposes of the mineral world, but likewise for
cherishing and keeping alive those plants which would otherwise perish
by the winter’s cold. The existence of such a fire he proved from the
nature of all those volcanoes, which in almost every corner of the
earth are continually vomiting up either flames or smoke. “These,” said
he, “are the great vents appointed by nature for the discharge of that
rarefied air and combustible matter, which, if confined, would burst
the globe asunder; but, besides the larger outlets, there are some
small chimneys through which part of the heat transpires; a vapour of
that sort, I conceive, must pass through the bed or channel of this
spring, the waters of which, accordingly retain a moderate warmth.”
This account, which totally overthrew the other’s doctrine, was so
extremely agreeable to the audience, that the testy doctor lost his
temper, and gave them to understand, without preamble, that he must be
a person wholly ignorant of natural philosophy, who could invent such a
ridiculous system, and they involved in worse than an Egyptian fog,
that could not at once discern its weakness and absurdity. This
declaration introduced a dispute, which was unanimously determined in
favour of our adventurer. On all such occasions the stream of prejudice
runs against the physician, even though his antagonist has nothing to
recommend himself to the favour of the spectators; and this decision
depends upon divers considerations. In the first place, there is a
continual war carried on against the learned professions, by all those
who, conscious of their own ignorance, seek to level the reputation of
their superiors with their own. Secondly, in all disputes upon physic
that happen betwixt a person who really understands the art, and an
illiterate pretender, the arguments of the first will seem obscure and
unintelligible to those who are unacquainted with the previous systems
on which they are built; while the other’s theory, derived from common
notions, and superficial observation, will be more agreeable, because
better adapted to the comprehension of the hearers. Thirdly, the
judgment of the multitude is apt to be biassed by that surprise which
is the effect of seeing an artist foiled at his own weapons, by one who
engages him only for amusement.
Fathom, besides these advantages, was blessed with a flow of language,
an elegant address, a polite and self-denying style of argumentation,
together with a temper not to be ruffled; so that the victory could not
long waver between him and the physician, to whom he was infinitely
superior in every acquisition but that of solid learning, of which the
judges had no idea. This contest was not only glorious but profitable
to our adventurer, who grew into such request in his medical capacity,
that the poor doctor was utterly deserted by his patients, and Fathom’s
advice solicited by every valetudinarian in the place; nor did he
forfeit the character he thus acquired by any miscarriages in his
practice. Being but little conversant with the materia medica, the
circle of his prescriptions was very small; his chief study was to
avoid all drugs of rough operation and uncertain effect, and to
administer such only as should be agreeable to the palate, without
doing violence to the constitution. Such a physician could not but be
agreeable to people of all dispositions; and, as most of the patients
were in some shape hypochondriac, the power of imagination,
co-operating with his remedies, often effected a cure.
On the whole, it became the fashion to consult the Count in all
distempers, and his reputation would have had its run, though the death
of every patient had given the lie to his pretensions. But empty fame
was not the sole fruit of his success. Though no person would presume
to affront this noble graduate with a fee, they did not fail to
manifest their gratitude by some more valuable present. Every day some
superb piece of china, curious snuffbox, or jewel, was pressed upon
him; so that, at the end of the season, he could almost have furnished
a toyshop with the acknowledgments he had received. Not only his
avarice, but his pleasure, was gratified in the course of his medical
administration. He enjoyed free access, egress, and regress with all
the females at the well, and no matron scrupled to put her daughter
under his care and direction. These opportunities could not be lost
upon a man of his intriguing genius; though he conducted his amours
with such discretion, that, during the whole season, no lady’s
character suffered on his account, yet he was highly fortunate in his
addresses, and we may venture to affirm, that the reproach of
barrenness was more than once removed by the vigour of his endeavours.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
HE IS SMITTEN WITH THE CHARMS OF A FEMALE ADVENTURER, WHOSE ALLUREMENTS
SUBJECT HIM TO A NEW VICISSITUDE OF FORTUNE.
Among those who were distinguished by his gallantry was the young wife
of an old citizen of London, who had granted her permission to reside
at the hot well for the benefit of her health, under the eye and
inspection of his own sister, who was a maiden of fifty years. The
pupil, whose name was Mrs. Trapwell, though low in stature, was finely
shaped, her countenance engaging, though her complexion was brown, her
hair in colour rivalled the raven’s back, and her eyes emulated the
lustre of the diamond. Fathom had been struck with her first
appearance; but found it impracticable to elude the vigilance of her
duenna, so as to make a declaration of his flame; until she herself,
guessing the situation of his thoughts, and not displeased with the
discovery, thought proper to furnish him with the opportunity he
wanted, by counterfeiting an indisposition, for the cure of which she
knew his advice would be implored. This was the beginning of an
acquaintance, which was soon improved to his wish; and so well did she
manage her attractions, as in some measure to fix the inconstancy of
his disposition; for, at the end of the season, his passion was not
sated; and they concerted the means of continuing their commerce, even
after their return to London.
This intercourse effectually answered the purpose of the husband, who
had been decoyed into matrimony by the cunning of his spouse, whom he
had privately kept as a concubine before marriage. Conscious of her own
precarious situation, she had resolved to impose upon the infirmities
of Trapwell, and, feigning herself pregnant, gave him to understand she
could no longer conceal her condition from the knowledge of her
brother, who was an officer in the army, and of such violent passions,
that, should he once discover her backsliding, he would undoubtedly
wipe away the stains of his family dishonour with her own blood, as
well as that of her keeper. The citizen, to prevent such a catastrophe,
took her to wife; but soon after perceiving the trick which had been
played upon him, set his invention at work, and at length contrived a
scheme which he thought would enable him, not only to retrieve his
liberty, but also indemnify himself for the mortification he had
undergone.
Far from creating any domestic disturbance, by upbraiding her with her
finesse, he seemed perfectly well pleased with his acquisition; and, as
he knew her void of any principle, and extremely addicted to pleasure,
he chose proper occasions to insinuate, that she might gratify her own
inclination, and at the same time turn her beauty to good account. She
joyfully listened to these remonstrances, and, in consequence of their
mutual agreement, she repaired to Bristol Spring, on pretence of an ill
state of health, accompanied by her sister-in-law, whom they did not
think proper to intrust with the real motive of her journey. Fathom’s
person was agreeable, and his finances supposed to be in flourishing
order; therefore, she selected him from the herd of gallants, as a
proper sacrifice to the powers which she adored; and, on her arrival in
London, made her husband acquainted with the importance of her
conquest.
Trapwell overwhelmed her with caresses and praise for her discreet and
dutiful conduct, and faithfully promised that she should pocket in her
own privy purse one-half of the spoils that should be gathered from her
gallant, whom she therefore undertook to betray, after he had swore, in
the most solemn manner, that his intention was not to bring the affair
to a public trial, which would redound to his own disgrace, but to
extort a round sum of money from the Count, by way of composition.
Confiding in this protestation, she in a few days gave him intelligence
of an assignation she had made with our adventurer, at a certain bagnio
near Covent Garden; upon which he secured the assistance of a
particular friend and his own journeyman, with whom, and a constable,
he repaired to the place of rendezvous, where he waited in an adjoining
room, according to the directions of his virtuous spouse, until she
made the preconcerted signal of hemming three times aloud, when he and
his associates rushed into the chamber and surprised our hero in bed
with his inamorata.
The lady on this occasion acted her part to a miracle; she screamed at
their approach; and, after an exclamation of “Ruined and undone!”
fainted away in the arms of her spouse, who had by this time seized her
by the shoulders, and begun to upbraid her with her infidelity and
guilt. As for Fathom, his affliction was unutterable, when he found
himself discovered in that situation, and made prisoner by the two
assistants, who had pinioned him in such a manner, that he could not
stir, much less accomplish an escape. All his ingenuity and presence of
mind seemed to forsake him in this emergency. The horrors of an English
jury overspread his imagination; for he at once perceived that the toil
into which he had fallen was laid for the purpose; consequently he took
it for granted that there would be no deficiency in point of evidence.
Soon as he recollected himself, he begged that no violence might be
offered to his person, and entreated the husband to favour him with a
conference, in which the affair might be compromised, without prejudice
to the reputation of either.
At first Trapwell breathed nothing but implacable revenge, but, by the
persuasion of his friends, after he had sent home his wife in a chair,
he was prevailed upon to hear the proposals of the delinquent, who
having assured him, by way of apology, that he had always believed the
lady was a widow, made him an offer of five hundred pounds, as an
atonement for the injury he had sustained. This being a sum no ways
adequate to the expectation of the citizen, who looked upon the Count
as possessor of an immense estate, he rejected the terms with disdain,
and made instant application to a judge, from whom he obtained a
warrant for securing his person till the day of trial. Indeed, in this
case, money was but a secondary consideration with Trapwell, whose
chief aim was to be legally divorced from a woman he detested.
Therefore there was no remedy for the unhappy Count, who in vain
offered to double the sum. He found himself reduced to the bitter
alternative of procuring immediate bail, or going directly to Newgate.
In this dilemma he sent a messenger to his friend Ratchcali, whose
countenance fell when he understood the Count’s condition; nor would he
open his mouth in the style of consolation, until he had consulted a
certain solicitor of his acquaintance, who assured him the law abounded
with such resources as would infallibly screen the defendant, had the
fact been still more palpable than it was. He said there was great
presumption to believe the Count had fallen a sacrifice to a
conspiracy, which by some means or other would be detected; and, in
that case, the plaintiff might obtain one shilling in lieu of damages.
If that dependence should fail, he hinted that, in all probability, the
witnesses were not incorruptible; or, should they prove to be so, one
man’s oath was as good as another’s; and, thank Heaven, there was no
dearth of evidence, provided money could be found to answer the
necessary occasions.
Ratchcali, comforted by these insinuations, and dreading the resentment
of our adventurer, who, in his despair, might punish him severely for
his want of friendship, by some precipitate explanation of the commerce
they had carried on; moved, I say, by these considerations, and
moreover tempted with the prospect of continuing to reap the advantages
resulting from their conjunction, he and another person of credit with
whom he largely dealt in jewels, condescended to become sureties for
the appearance of Fathom, who was accordingly admitted to bail. Not but
that the Tyrolese knew Ferdinand too well to confide in his parole. He
depended chiefly upon his ideas of self-interest, which, he thought,
would persuade him to risk the uncertain issue of a trial, rather than
quit the field before the harvest was half over; and he was resolved to
make his own retreat without ceremony, should our hero be unwise enough
to abandon his bail.
Such an adventure could not long lie concealed from the notice of the
public, even if both parties had been at pains to suppress the
circumstances. But the plaintiff, far from seeking to cover, affected
to complain loudly of his misfortune, that he might interest his
neighbours in his behalf, and raise a spirit of rancour and animosity,
to influence the jury against this insolent foreigner, who had come
over into England to debauch our wives and deflower our daughters;
while he employed a formidable band of lawyers to support the
indictment, which he laid at ten thousand pounds damages.
Meanwhile, Fathom and his associate did not fail to take all proper
measures for his defence; they retained a powerful bar of counsel, and
the solicitor was supplied with one hundred pounds after another, to
answer the expense of secret service; still assuring his clients that
everything was in an excellent train, and that his adversary would gain
nothing but shame and confusion of face. Nevertheless, there was a
necessity for postponing the trial, on account of a material evidence,
who, though he wavered, was not yet quite brought over; and the
attorney found means to put off the decision from term to term, until
there was no quibble left for further delay. While this suit was
depending, our hero continued to move in his usual sphere; nor did the
report of his situation at all operate to his disadvantage in the
polite world; on the contrary, it added a fresh plume to his character,
in the eyes of all those who were not before acquainted with the
triumphs of his gallantry. Notwithstanding this countenance of his
friends, he himself considered the affair in a very serious light; and
perceiving that, at any rate, he must be a considerable loser, he
resolved to double his assiduity in trade, that he might be the more
able to afford the extraordinary expense to which he was subjected.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
FRESH CAUSE FOR EXERTING HIS EQUANIMITY AND FORTITUDE.
The reader may have observed, that Fathom, with all his circumspection,
had a weak side, which exposed him to sundry mischances; this was his
covetousness, which on some occasions became too hard for his
discretion. At this period of time it was, by the circumstances of his
situation, inflamed to a degree of rapacity. He was now prevailed upon
to take a hand at whist or piquet, and even to wield the hazard-box;
though he had hitherto declared himself an irreconcilable enemy to all
sorts of play; and so uncommon was his success and dexterity at these
exercises, as to surprise his acquaintance, and arouse the suspicion of
some people, who repined at his prosperity.
But in nothing was his conduct more inexcusable than in giving way to
the dangerous temerity of Ratchcali, which he had been always at pains
to restrain, and permitting him to practise the same fraud upon an
English nobleman, which had been executed upon himself at Frankfort. In
other words, the Tyrolese, by the canal of Ferdinand’s finger and
recommendation, sold a pebble for a real brilliant, and in a few days
the cheat was discovered, to the infinite confusion of our adventurer,
who nevertheless assumed the guise of innocence with so much art, and
expressed such indignation against the villain who had imposed upon his
judgment and unsuspecting generosity, that his lordship acquitted him
of any share in the deceit, and contented himself with the restitution,
which he insisted upon making out of his own pocket, until he should be
able to apprehend the rogue, who had thought proper to abscond for his
own safety. In spite of all this exculpation, his character did not
fail to retain a sort of stigma, which indeed the plainest proofs of
innocence are hardly able to efface; and his connexion with such a
palpable knave as the Tyrolese appeared to be, had an effect to his
prejudice in the minds of all those who were privy to the occurrence.
When a man’s reputation is once brought in question, every trifle is,
by the malevolence of mankind, magnified into a strong presumption
against the culprit. A few whispers communicated by the envious mouth
of slander, which he can have no opportunity to answer and refute,
shall, in the opinion of the world, convict him of the most horrid
crimes; and for one hypocrite who is decked with the honours of virtue,
there are twenty good men who suffer the ignominy of vice; so well
disposed are individuals to trample upon the fame of their
fellow-creatures. If the most unblemished merit is not protected from
this injustice, it will not be wondered at that no quarter was given to
the character of an adventurer like Fathom, who, among other unlucky
occurrences, had the misfortune to be recognised about this time by his
two Parisian friends, Sir Stentor Stile and Sir Giles Squirrel.
These worthy knights-errant had returned to their own country, after
having made a very prosperous campaign in France, at the end of which,
however, they very narrowly escaped the galleys; and seeing the Polish
Count seated at the head of taste and politeness, they immediately
circulated the story of his defeat at Paris, with many ludicrous
circumstances of their own invention, and did not scruple to affirm
that he was a rank impostor. When the laugh is raised upon a great man,
he never fails to dwindle into contempt. Ferdinand began to perceive a
change in the countenance of his friends. His company was no longer
solicited with that eagerness which they had formerly expressed in his
behalf. Even his entertainments were neglected; when he appeared at any
private or public assembly, the ladies, instead of glowing with
pleasure, as formerly, now tittered or regarded him with looks of
disdain; and a certain pert, little, forward coquette, with a view to
put him out of countenance, by raising the laugh at his expense, asked
him one night, at a drum, when he had heard from his relations in
Poland? She succeeded in her design upon the mirth of the audience, but
was disappointed in the other part of her aim; for our hero replied,
without the least mark of discomposure, “They are all in good health at
your service, madam; I wish I knew in what part of the world your
relations reside, that I might return the compliment.” By this answer,
which was the more severe, as the young lady was of very doubtful
extraction, he retorted the laugh upon the aggressor, though he
likewise failed in his attempt upon her temper; for she was perhaps the
only person present who equalled himself in stability of countenance.
Notwithstanding this appearance of unconcern, he was deeply touched
with these marks of alienation in the behaviour of his friends, and,
foreseeing in his own disgrace the total shipwreck of his fortune, he
entered into a melancholy deliberation with himself about the means of
retrieving his importance in the beau monde, or of turning his address
into some other channel, where he could stand upon a less slippery
foundation. In this exercise of his thoughts, no scheme occurred more
feasible than that of securing the booty he had made, and retiring with
his associate, who was also blown, into some other country, where their
names and characters being unknown, they might pursue their old plan of
commerce without molestation. He imparted this suggestion to the
Tyrolese, who approved the proposal of decamping, though he combated
with all his might our hero’s inclination to withdraw himself before
the trial, by repeating the assurances of the solicitor, who told him
he might depend upon being reimbursed by the sentence of the court for
great part of the sums he had expended in the course of the
prosecution.
Fathom suffered himself to be persuaded by these arguments, supported
with the desire of making an honourable retreat, and, waiting patiently
for the day of trouble, discharged his sureties, by a personal
appearance in court. Yet this was not the only score he discharged that
morning; the solicitor presented his own bill before they set out for
Westminster Hall, and gave the Count to understand that it was the
custom, from time immemorial, for the client to clear with his attorney
before trial. Ferdinand had nothing to object against this established
rule, though he looked upon it as a bad omen, in spite of all the
solicitor’s confidence and protestations; and he was not a little
confounded, when, looking into the contents, he found himself charged
with 350 attendances. He knew it was not his interest to disoblige his
lawyer at such a juncture; nevertheless, he could not help
expostulating with him on this article, which seemed to be so falsely
stated with regard to the number; when his questions drew on an
explanation, by which he found he had incurred the penalty of three
shillings and fourpence for every time he chanced to meet the
conscientious attorney, either in the park, the coffee-house, or the
street, provided they had exchanged the common salutation; and he had
good reason to believe the solicitor had often thrown himself in his
way, with a view to swell this item of his account.
With this extortion our adventurer was fain to comply, because he lay
at the mercy of the caitiff; accordingly, he with a good grace paid the
demand, which, including his former disbursements, amounted to three
hundred and sixty-five pounds eleven shillings and threepence three
farthings, and then presenting himself before the judge, quietly
submitted to the laws of the realm. His counsel behaved like men of
consummate abilities in their profession; they exerted themselves with
equal industry, eloquence, and erudition, in their endeavours to
perplex the truth, browbeat the evidence, puzzle the judge, and mislead
the jury; but the defendant found himself wofully disappointed in the
deposition of Trapwell’s journeyman, whom the solicitor pretended to
have converted to his interest. This witness, as the attorney
afterwards declared, played booty, and the facts came out so clear,
that Ferdinand Count Fathom was convicted of criminal conversation with
the plaintiff’s wife, and cast in fifteen hundred pounds, under the
denomination of damages.
He was not so much surprised as afflicted at this decision, because he
saw it gradually approaching from the examination of the first
evidence. His thoughts were now employed in casting about for some
method of deliverance from the snare in which he found himself
entangled. To escape, he foresaw it would be impracticable, as Trapwell
would undoubtedly be prepared for arresting him before he could quit
Westminster Hall; he was too well acquainted with Ratchcali’s
principles, to expect any assistance from that quarter in money
matters; and he was utterly averse to the payment of the sum awarded
against him, which would have exhausted his whole fortune. He therefore
resolved to try the friendship of some persons of fashion, with whom he
had maintained an intimacy of correspondence. Should they fail him in
the day of his necessity, he proposed to have recourse to his former
sureties, one of whom he meant to bilk, while the other might accompany
him in his retreat; or, should both these expedients miscarry, he
determined, rather than part with his effects, to undergo the most
disagreeable confinement, in hope of obtaining the jailor’s connivance
at his escape.
These resolutions being taken, he met his fate with great fortitude and
equanimity, and calmly suffered himself to be conveyed to the house of
a sheriff’s officer, who, as he made his exit from the hall, according
to his own expectation, executed a writ against him, at the suit of
Trapwell, for a debt of two thousand pounds. To this place he was
followed by his solicitor, who was allured by the prospect of another
job, and who, with great demonstrations of satisfaction, congratulated
him upon the happy issue of the trial; arrogating to himself the merit
of having saved him eight thousand pounds in the article of damages, by
the previous steps he had taken, and the noble defence that he and his
friends the counsel had made for their client; he even hinted an
expectation of receiving a gratuity for his extraordinary care and
discretion.
Fathom, galled as he was with his misfortune, and enraged at the
effrontery of this pettifogger, maintained a serenity of countenance,
and sent the attorney with a message to the plaintiff, importing, that,
as he was a foreigner, and could not be supposed to have so much cash
about him, as to spare fifteen hundred pounds from the funds of his
ordinary expense, he would grant him a bond payable in two months,
during which period he should be able to procure a proper remittance
from his own estate. While the solicitor was employed in this
negotiation, he despatched his valet-de-chambre to one nobleman, and
Maurice to another, with billets, signifying the nature of the verdict
which his adversary had obtained, and desiring that each would lend him
a thousand pounds upon his parole, until he could negotiate bills upon
the Continent.
His three messengers returned almost at the same instant of time, and
these were the answers they brought back.
Trapwell absolutely rejected his personal security; and threatened him
with all the horrors of a jail, unless he would immediately discharge
the debt, or procure sufficient bondsmen; and one of his quality
friends favoured him with this reply to his request:—
“MY DEAR COUNT!
I am mortally chagrined at the triumph you have furnished to that
rascally citizen. By the lard! the judge must have been in the terrors
of cuckoldom, to influence the decision; and the jury a mere herd of
horned beasts, to bring in such a barbarous verdict. Egad! at this
rate, no gentleman will be able to lie with another man’s wife, but at
the risk of a cursed prosecution. But to waive this disagreeable
circumstance, which you must strive to forget; I declare my
mortification is still the greater, because I cannot at present supply
you with the trifle your present exigency requires; for, to tell you a
secret, my own finances are in damnable confusion. But a man of Count
Fathom’s figure and address can never be puzzled for the want of such a
paltry sum. Adieu, my dear Count! we shall, I suppose, have the
pleasure of seeing you to-morrow at White’s: meanwhile, I have the
honour to be, with the most perfect attachment,
yours, GRIZZLEGRIN.”
The other noble peer, to whom he addressed himself on this occasion,
cherished the same sentiments of virtue, friendship, and generosity;
but his expression was so different, that we shall, for the edification
of the reader, transcribe his letter in his own words:—
“SIR,
I was never more astonished than at the receipt of your very
extraordinary billet, wherein you solicit the loan of a thousand
pounds, which you desire may be sent with the bearer on the faith of
your parole. Sir, I have no money to send you or lend you; and cannot
help repeating my expressions of surprise at your confidence in making
such a strange and unwarranted demand. ’Tis true, I may have made
professions of friendship, while I looked upon you as a person of
honour and good morals; but now that you are convicted of such a
flagrant violation of the laws of that kingdom where you have been
treated with such hospitality and respect, I think myself fully
absolved from any such conditional promise, which indeed is never
interpreted into any other than a bare compliment. I am sorry you have
involved your character and fortune in such a disagreeable affair, and
am,
Sir, yours, etc.
TROMPINGTON.”
Ferdinand was not such a novice in the world as to be disappointed at
these repulses; especially as he had laid very little stress upon the
application, which was made by way of an experiment upon the gratitude
or caprice of those two noblemen, whom he had actually more than once
obliged with the same sort of assistance which he now solicited, though
not to such a considerable amount.
Having nothing further to expect from the fashionable world, he sent
the Tyrolese to the person who had been bail for his appearance, with
full instructions to explain his present occasion in the most
favourable light, and desire he would reinforce the credit of the Count
with his security; but that gentleman, though he placed the most
perfect confidence on the honour of our hero, and would have willingly
entered into bonds again for his personal appearance, was not quite so
well satisfied of his circumstances, as to become liable for the
payment of two thousand pounds, an expense which, in his opinion, the
finances of no foreign Count were able to defray. He therefore lent a
deaf ear to the most pressing remonstrances of the ambassador, who had
recourse to several other merchants, with the same bad success; so that
the prisoner, despairing of bail, endeavoured to persuade Ratchcali,
that it would be his interest to contribute a thousand pounds towards
his discharge, that he might be enabled to quit England with a good
grace, and execute his part of the plan they had projected.
So powerful was his eloquence on the occasion, and such strength of
argument did he use, that even the Tyrolese seemed convinced, though
reluctantly, and agreed to advance the necessary sum upon the bond and
judgment of our adventurer, who, being disabled from transacting his
own affairs in person, was obliged to intrust Ratchcali with his keys,
papers, and power of attorney, under the check and inspection of his
faithful Maurice and the solicitor, whose fidelity he bespoke with the
promise of an ample recompense.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
THE BITER IS BIT.
Yet, he had no sooner committed his effects to the care of this
triumvirate, than his fancy was visited with direful warnings, which
produced cold sweats and palpitations, and threw him into such agonies
of apprehension as he had never known before. He remembered the former
desertion of the Tyrolese, the recent villany of the solicitor, and
recollected the remarks he had made upon the disposition and character
of his valet, which evinced him a fit companion for the other two.
Alarmed at these reflections, he entreated the bailiff to indulge him
with a visit to his own lodgings, and even offered one hundred guineas
as a gratification for his compliance. But the officer, who had
formerly lost a considerable sum by the escape of a prisoner, would not
run any risk in an affair of such consequence, and our hero was obliged
to submit to the tortures of his own presaging fears. After he had
waited five hours in the most racking impatience, he saw the attorney
enter with all the marks of hurry, fatigue, and consternation, and
heard him exclaim, “Good God, have you seen the gentleman?”
Fathom found his fears realised in this interrogation, to which he
answered in a tone of horror and dismay, “What gentleman? I suppose I
am robbed. Speak, and keep me no longer in suspense.” “Robbed!” cried
the attorney, “the Lord forbid! I hope you can depend upon the person
you empowered to receive your jewels and cash? I must own his
proceedings are a little extraordinary; for after he had rummaged your
scrutoire, from which, in presence of me and your servant, he took one
hundred and fifty guineas, a parcel of diamond rings and buckles,
according to this here inventory, which I wrote with my own hand, and
East India bonds to the tune of five hundred more, we adjourned to
Garraway’s, where he left me alone, under pretence of going to a broker
of his acquaintance who lived in the neighbourhood, while the valet, as
I imagined, waited for us in the alley. Well, sir, he stayed so long,
that I began to be uneasy, and at length resolved to send the servant
in quest of him, but when I went out for that purpose, deuce a servant
was to be found; though I in person inquired for him at every alehouse
within half a mile of the place. I then despatched no less than five
ticket porters upon the scent after them, and I myself, by a direction
from the bar-keeper, went to Signior Ratchcali’s lodgings, where, as
they told me, he had not been seen since nine o’clock in the morning.
Upon this intimation, I came directly hither, to give you timely
notice, that you may without delay take measures for your own security.
The best thing you can do, is to take out writs for apprehending him,
in the counties of Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and Essex, and I shall put
them in the hands of trusty and diligent officers, who will soon ferret
him out of his lurking-place, provided he skulks within ten miles of
the bills of mortality. To be sure, the job will be expensive; and all
these runners must be paid beforehand. But what then? the defendant is
worth powder, and if we can once secure him, I’ll warrant the
prosecution will quit cost.”
Fathom was almost choked with concern and resentment at the news of
this mischance, so that he could not utter one word until this
narrative was finished. Nor was his suspicion confined to the Tyrolese
and his own lacquey; he considered the solicitor as their accomplice
and director, and was so much provoked at the latter part of his
harangue, that his discretion seemed to vanish, and, collaring the
attorney, “Villain!” said he, “you yourself have been a principal actor
in this robbery.” Then turning to the bystanders, “and I desire in the
King’s name that he may be secured, until I can make oath before a
magistrate in support of the charge. If you refuse your assistance in
detaining him, I will make immediate application to one of the
secretaries of state, who is my particular friend, and he will see
justice done to all parties.”
At mention of this formidable name, the bailiff and his whole family
were in commotion, to obstruct the retreat of the lawyer, who stood
aghast and trembled under the grasp of our adventurer. But, soon as he
found himself delivered from this embrace, by the interposition of the
spectators, and collected his spirits, which had been suddenly
dissipated by Fathom’s unexpected assault, he began to display one art
of his occupation, which he always reserved for extraordinary
occasions. This was the talent of abuse, which he poured forth with
such fluency of opprobrious language, that our hero, smarting as he
was, and almost desperate with his loss, deviated from that temperance
of behaviour which he had hitherto preserved, and snatching up the
poker, with one stroke opened a deep trench upon the attorney’s skull,
that extended from the hind head almost to the upper part of the nose,
upon each side of which it discharged a sanguine stream.
Notwithstanding the pain of this application, the solicitor was
transported with joy at the sense of the smart, and inwardly
congratulated himself upon the appearance of his own blood, which he no
sooner perceived, than he exclaimed, “I’m a dead man,” and fell upon
the floor at full length.
Immediate recourse was had to a surgeon in the neighbourhood, who,
having examined the wound, declared there was a dangerous depression of
the first table of the skull, and that, if he could save the patient’s
life without the application of the trepan, it would be one of the
greatest cures that ever were performed. By this time, Fathom’s first
transport being overblown, he summoned up his whole resolution, and
reflected upon his own ruin with that fortitude which had never failed
him in the emergencies of his fate. Little disturbed at the prognostic
of the surgeon, which he considered in the right point of view; “Sir,”
said he, “I am not so unacquainted with the resistance of an attorney’s
skull, as to believe the chastisement I have bestowed on him will at
all endanger his life, which is in much greater jeopardy from the hands
of the common executioner. For, notwithstanding this accident, I am
determined to prosecute the rascal for robbery with the utmost severity
of the law; and, that I may have a sufficient fund left for that
prosecution, I shall not at present throw away one farthing in
unnecessary expense, but insist upon being conveyed to prison without
farther delay.”
This declaration was equally unwelcome to the bailiff, surgeon, and
solicitor, who, upon the supposition that the Count was a person of
fortune, and would rather part with an immense sum than incur the
ignominy of a jail, or involve himself in another disgraceful lawsuit,
had resolved to fleece him to the utmost of their power. But, now the
attorney finding him determined to set his fate at defiance, and to
retort upon him a prosecution, which he had no design to undergo, began
to repent heartily of the provocation he had given, and to think
seriously on some method to overcome the obstinacy of the incensed
foreigner. With this view, while the bailiff conducted him to bed in
another apartment, he desired the catchpole to act the part of mediator
between him and the Count, and furnished him with proper instructions
for that purpose. Accordingly the landlord, on his return, told Fathom
that he was sure the solicitor was not a man for this world; for that
he had left him deprived of his senses, and praying to God with great
devotion for mercy to his murderer. He then exhorted him, with many
protestations of friendship, to compromise the unhappy affair by
exchanging releases with the attorney before his delirium should be
known, otherwise he would bring himself into a most dangerous
premunire, whether the plaintiff should die of his wound, or live to
prosecute him for assault. “And with regard to your charge of robbery
against him,” said he, “as it is no more than a base suspicion,
unsupported by the least shadow of evidence, the bill would be thrown
out, and then he might sue you for damages. I therefore, out of pure
friendship and good-nature, advise you to compromise the affair, and,
if you think proper, will endeavour to bring about a mutual release.”
Our hero, whose passion was by this time pretty well cooled, saw reason
for assenting to the proposal; upon which the deed was immediately
executed, the mediator’s bill was discharged, and Ferdinand conveyed in
an hackney-coach to prison, after he had empowered his own landlord to
discharge his servants, and convert his effects into ready money. Thus,
he saw himself, in the course of a few hours, deprived of his
reputation, rank, liberty, and friends; and his fortune reduced from
two thousand pounds to something less than two hundred, fifty of which
he had carried to jail in his pocket.
END OF VOL. I.
THE ADVENTURES OF FERDINAND COUNT FATHOM
by Tobias Smollett
Titlepage
COMPLETE IN TWO PARTS