The knight had not enjoyed his repose above two hours, when he was
disturbed by such a variety of noises, as might have discomposed a brain
of the firmest texture. The rumbling of carriages, and the rattling of
horses’ feet on the pavement, was intermingled with loud shouts, and the
noise of fiddle, French horn, and bagpipe. A loud peal was heard ringing
in the church tower, at some distance, while the inn resounded with
clamour, confusion, and uproar.
Sir Launcelot being thus alarmed, started from his bed, and running to
the window, beheld a cavalcade of persons well mounted, and distinguished
by blue cockades. They were generally attired like jockies, with
gold-laced hats and buckskin breeches, and one of them bore a standard of
blue silk, inscribed in white letters, LIBERTY AND THE LANDED INTEREST.
He who rode at their head was a jolly figure, of a florid complexion and
round belly, seemingly turned of fifty, and, in all appearance, of a
choleric disposition. As they approached the market-place, they waved
their hats, huzzaed, and cried aloud, NO FOREIGN CONNEXIONS!--OLD ENGLAND
FOR EVER! This acclamation, however, was not so loud or universal, but
that our adventurer could distinctly hear a counter-cry from the populace
of, NO SLAVERY!--NO POPISH PRETENDER! an insinuation so ill relished by
the cavaliers, that they began to ply their horsewhips among the
multitude, and were, in their turn, saluted with a discharge or volley of
stones, dirt, and dead cats; in consequence of which some teeth were
demolished, and many surtouts defiled.
Our adventurer’s attention was soon called off from this scene, to
contemplate another procession of people on foot, adorned with bunches of
orange ribbons, attended by a regular band of music, playing God save
great George our King, and headed by a thin swarthy personage, of a
sallow aspect, and large goggling eyes, arched over with two thick
semicircles of hair, or rather bristles, jet black, and frowsy. His
apparel was very gorgeous, though his address was very awkward; he was
accompanied by the mayor, recorder, and heads of the corporation, in
their formalities. His ensigns were known by the inscription, Liberty of
Conscience, and the Protestant Succession; and the people saluted him as
he passed with repeated cheers, that seemed to prognosticate success. He
had particularly ingratiated himself with the good women, who lined the
street, and sent forth many ejaculatory petitions in his favour.
Sir Launcelot immediately comprehended the meaning of this solemnity. He
perceived it was the prelude to the election of a member to represent the
county in parliament, and he was seized with an eager desire to know the
names and characters of the competitors.
In order to gratify this desire, he made repeated application to the
bell-rope that depended from the ceiling of his apartment; but this
produced nothing, except the repetition of the words, “Coming, sir,”
which echoed from three or four different corners of the house. The
waiters were so distracted by a variety of calls, that they stood
motionless, in the state of the schoolman’s ass between two bundles of
hay, incapable of determining where they should first offer their
attendance.
Our knight’s patience was almost exhausted, when Crabshaw entered the
room, in a very strange equipage. One half of his face appeared close
shaved, and the other covered with lather, while the blood trickled in
two rivulets from his nose, upon a barber’s cloth that was tucked under
his chin; he looked grim with indignation, and under his left arm carried
his cutlass, unsheathed. Where he had acquired so much of the profession
of knight-errantry we shall not pretend to determine; but certain it is,
he fell on his knees before Sir Launcelot, crying, with an accent of
grief and distraction, “In the name of St. George for England, I beg a
boon, Sir Knight, and thy compliance I demand, before the peacock and the
ladies.”
Sir Launcelot, astonished at this address, replied in a lofty strain,
“Valiant squire, thy boon is granted, provided it doth not contravene the
laws of the land, and the constitution of chivalry.” “Then I crave
leave,” answered Crabshaw, “to challenge and defy to mortal combat that
caitiff barber who hath left me in this piteous condition; and I vow by
the peacock, that I will not shave my beard, until I have shaved his head
from his shoulders. So may I thrive in the occupation of an arrant
squire.”
Before his master had time to inquire into particulars, they were joined
by a decent man in boots, who was likewise a traveller, and had seen the
rise and progress of Timothy’s disaster. He gave the knight to
understand, that Crabshaw had sent for a barber, and already undergone
one half of the operation, when the operator received the long-expected
message from both the gentlemen who stood candidates at the election.
The double summons was no sooner intimated to him, than he threw down his
bason, and retired with precipitation, leaving the squire in the suds.
Timothy, incensed at this desertion, followed him with equal celerity
into the street, where he collared the shaver, and insisted upon being
entirely trimmed, on pain of the bastinado. The other finding himself
thus arrested, and having no time to spare for altercation, lifted up his
fist, and discharged it upon the snout of Crabshaw with such force, that
the unfortunate aggressor was fain to bite the ground, while the victor
hastened away, in hope of touching the double wages of corruption.
The knight being informed of these circumstances, told Timothy with a
smile, that he should have liberty to defy the barber; but, in the
meantime, he ordered him to saddle Bronzomarte, and prepare for immediate
service. While the squire was thus employed, his master engaged in
conversation with the stranger, who happened to be a London dealer
travelling for orders, and was well acquainted with the particulars which
our adventurer wanted to know.
It was from this communicative tradesman he learned, that the competitors
were Sir Valentine Quickset and Mr. Isaac Vanderpelft; the first a mere
fox-hunter, who depended for success in his election upon his interest
among the high-flying gentry; the other a stock jobber and contractor of
foreign extract, not without a mixture of Hebrew blood, immensely rich,
who was countenanced by his Grace of----, and supposed to have
distributed large sums in securing a majority of votes among the yeomanry
of the county, possessed of small freeholds, and copyholders, a great
number of which last resided in this borough. He said these were
generally dissenters and weavers; and that the mayor, who was himself a
manufacturer, had received a very considerable order for exportation, in
consequence of which it was believed he would support Mr. Vanderpelft
with all his influence and credit.
Sir Launcelot, roused at this intelligence, called for his armour, which
being buckled on in a hurry, he mounted his steed, attended by Crabshaw
on Gilbert, and rode immediately into the midst of the multitude by which
the hustings were surrounded, just as Sir Valentine Quickset began to
harangue the people from an occasional theatre, formed of a plank
supported by the upper board of the public stocks, and an inferior rib of
a wooden cage pitched also for the accommodation of petty delinquents.
Though the singular appearance of Sir Launcelot at first attracted the
eyes of all the spectators, yet they did not fail to yield attention to
the speech of his brother-knight, Sir Valentine, which ran in the
following strain:--“Gentlemen vreeholders of this here county, I shan’t
pretend to meake a vine flourishing speech--I’m a plain-spoken man, as
you all know. I hope I shall always speak my maind without vear or
vavour, as the zaying is. ‘T is the way of the Quicksets--we are no
upstarts, nor vorreigners, nor have we any Jewish blood in our veins; we
have lived in this here neighbourhood time out of mind, as you all know,
and possess an estate of vive thousand clear, which we spend at whoam,
among you, in old English hospitality. All my vorevathers have been
parliament-men, and I can prove that ne’er a one o’ um gave a zingle vote
for the court since the Revolution. Vor my own peart, I value not the
ministry three skips of a louse, as the zaying is--I ne’er knew but one
minister that was an honest man, and vor all the rest, I care not if they
were hanged as high as Haman, with a pox to’ un. I am, thank God, a
vree-born, true-hearted Englishman, and a loyal, thof unworthy, son of
the Church--vor all they have done vor H----r, I’d vain know what they
have done vor the Church, with a vengeance--vor my own peart, I hate
all vorreigners and vorreign measures, whereby this poor nation is
broken-backed with a dismal load of debt, and the taxes rise so high that
the poor cannot get bread. Gentlemen vreeholders of this county, I value
no minister a vig’s end, d’ye see; if you will vavour me with your votes
and interest, whereby I may be returned, I’ll engage one half of my
estate that I never cry yea to your shillings in the pound, but will
cross the ministry in everything, as in duty bound, and as becomes an
honest vreeholder in the ould interest--but, if you sell your votes and
your country for hire, you will be detested in this here world, and
damned in the next to all eternity: so I leave every man to his own
conscience.”
This eloquent oration was received by his own friends with loud peals of
applause, which, however, did not discourage his competitor, who,
confident of his own strength, ascended the rostrum, or, in other words,
an old cask, set upright for the purpose. Having bowed all round to the
audience, with a smile of gentle condescension, he told them how
ambitious he was of the honour to represent this county in parliament,
and how happy he found himself in the encouragement of his friends, who
had so unanimously agreed to support his pretensions. He said, over and
above the qualifications he possessed among them, he had fourscore
thousand pounds in his pocket, which he had acquired by commerce, the
support of the nation, under the present happy establishment, in defence
of which he was ready to spend the last farthing. He owned himself a
faithful subject to his Majesty King George, sincerely attached to the
Protestant succession, in detestation and defiance of a popish, an
abjured, and outlawed Pretender; and declared that he would exhaust his
substance and his blood, if necessary, in maintaining the principles of
the glorious Revolution. “This,” cried he, “is the solid basis and
foundation upon which I stand.”
These last words had scarce proceeded from his mouth, when the head of
the barrel or puncheon on which he stood, being frail and infirm, gave
way, so that down he went with a crash, and in a twinkling disappeared
from the eyes of the astonished beholders. The fox-hunters, perceiving
his disaster, exclaimed, in the phrase and accent of the chase, “Stole
away! stole away!” and with hideous vociferation, joined in the sylvan
chorus which the hunters halloo when the hounds are at fault.
The disaster of Mr. Vanderpelft was soon repaired by the assiduity of his
friends, who disengaged him from the barrel in a trice, hoisted him on
the shoulders of four strong weavers, and, resenting the unmannerly
exultation of their antagonists, began to form themselves in order of
battle.
An obstinate fray would have undoubtedly ensued, had not their mutual
indignation given way to their curiosity, at the motion of our knight,
who had advanced into the middle between the two fronts, and waving his
hand as a signal for them to give attention, addressed himself to them,
with graceful demeanour, in these words:--“Countrymen, friends, and
fellow-citizens, you are this day assembled to determine a point of the
utmost consequence to yourselves and your posterity; a point that ought
to be determined by far other weapons than brutal force and factious
clamour. You, the freemen of England, are the basis of that excellent
constitution which hath long flourished the object of envy and
admiration. To you belongs the inestimable privilege of choosing a
delegate properly qualified to represent you in the High Court of
Parliament. This is your birthright,--inherited from your ancestors,
obtained by their courage, and sealed with their blood. It is not only
your birthright, which you should maintain in defiance of all danger, but
also a sacred trust, to be executed with the most scrupulous care and
fidelity. The person whom you trust ought not only to be endued with the
most inflexible integrity, but should likewise possess a fund of
knowledge that may enable him to act as a part of the legislature. He
must be well acquainted with the history, the constitution, and the laws
of his country; he must understand the forms of business, the extent of
the royal prerogative, the privilege of parliament, the detail of
government, the nature and regulation of the finances, the different
branches of commerce, the politics that prevail, and the connexions that
subsist among the different powers of Europe; for on all these subjects
the deliberations of a House of Commons occasionally turn.
“But these great purposes will never be answered by electing an
illiterate savage, scarce qualified, in point of understanding, to act as
a country justice of peace, a man who has scarce ever travelled beyond
the excursion of a fox-chase, whose conversation never rambles farther
than his stable, his kennel, and the barnyard; who rejects decorum as
degeneracy, mistakes rusticity for independence, ascertains his courage
by leaping over gates and ditches, and founds his triumph on feats of
drinking; who holds his estate by a factious tenure, professes himself
the blind slave of a party, without knowing the principles that gave it
birth, or the motives by which it is actuated, and thinks that all
patriotism consists in railing indiscriminately at ministers, and
obstinately opposing every measure of the administration. Such a man,
with no evil intentions of his own, might be used as a dangerous tool in
the hands of a desperate faction, by scattering the seeds of
disaffection, embarrassing the wheels of government, and reducing the
whole kingdom to anarchy.”
Here the knight was interrupted by the shouts and acclamations of the
Vanderpelfites, who cried aloud, “Hear him! hear him! long life to the
iron-cased orator.” This clamour subsiding, he prosecuted his harangue
to the following effect:--
“Such a man as I have described may be dangerous from ignorance, but is
neither so mischievous, nor so detestable as the wretch who knowingly
betrays his trust, and sues to be the hireling and prostitute of a weak
and worthless minister; a sordid knave, without honour or principle, who
belongs to no family whose example can reproach him with degeneracy, who
has no country to command his respect, no friend to engage his affection,
no religion to regulate his morals, no conscience to restrain his
iniquity, and who worships no God but Mammon; an insinuating miscreant,
who undertakes for the dirtiest work of the vilest administration; who
practises national usury, receiving by wholesale the rewards of venality,
and distributing the wages of corruption by retail.”
In this place our adventurer’s speech was drowned in the acclamations of
the fox-hunters, who now triumphed in their turn, and hoicksed the
speaker, exclaiming, “Well opened, Jowler--to’ un, to’ un again,
Sweetlips! hey, Merry, Whitefoot!” After a short interruption, he thus
resumed his discourse:--
“When such a caitiff presents himself to you, like the devil, with a
temptation in his hand, avoid him as if he were in fact the devil--it is
not the offering of disinterested love, for what should induce him, who
has no affections, to love you, to whose persons he is an utter stranger?
alas! it is not a benevolence, but a bribe. He wants to buy you at one
market that he may sell you at another. Without doubt his intention is
to make an advantage of his purchase, and this aim he cannot accomplish
but by sacrificing, in some sort, your interest, your independency, to
the wicked designs of a minister, as he can expect no gratification for
the faithful discharge of his duty. But, even if he should not find an
opportunity of selling you to advantage, the crime, the shame, the
infamy, will still be the same in you, who, baser than the most abandoned
prostitutes, have sold yourselves and your posterity for hire--for a
paltry price, to be refunded with interest by some minister, who will
indemnify himself out of your own pockets; for, after all, you are bought
and sold with your own money--the miserable pittance you may now receive
is no more than a pitcher full of water thrown in to moisten the sucker
of that pump which will drain you to the bottom. Let me therefore advise
and exhort you, my countrymen, to avoid the opposite extremes of the
ignorant clown and the designing courtier, and choose a man of honesty,
intelligence, and moderation, who will”----
The doctrine of moderation was a very unpopular subject in such an
assembly; and, accordingly, they rejected it as one man. They began to
think the stranger wanted to set up for himself; a supposition that could
not fail to incense both sides equally, as they were both zealously
engaged in their respective causes. The Whigs and the Tories joined
against this intruder, who, being neither, was treated like a monster, or
chimera in politics. They hissed, they hooted, and they hallooed; they
annoyed him with missiles of dirt, sticks, and stones; they cursed, they
threatened and reviled, till, at length, his patience was exhausted.
“Ungrateful and abandoned miscreants!” he cried, “I spoke to you as men
and Christians--as free-born Britons and fellow-citizens; but I perceive
you are a pack of venal, infamous scoundrels, and I will treat you
accordingly.” So saying, he brandished his lance, and riding into the
thickest of the concourse, laid about him with such dexterity and effect,
that the multitude was immediately dispersed, and he retired without
further molestation.
The same good fortune did not attend squire Crabshaw in his retreat. The
ludicrous singularity of his features, and the half-mown crop of hair
that bristled from one side of his countenance, invited some wags to make
merry at his expense; one of them clapped a furze-bush under the tail of
Gilbert, who, feeling himself thus stimulated a posteriori, kicked and
plunged, and capered in such a manner, that Timothy could hardly keep the
saddle. In this commotion he lost his cap and his periwig, while the
rabble pelted him in such a manner, that, before he could join his
master, he looked like a pillar, or rather a pillory of mud.