WHICH, IT IS TO BE HOPED, WILL BE, ON MORE ACCOUNTS THAN ONE, AGREEABLE
TO THE READER.
Sir Launcelot, having vindicated the liberty, confirmed the safety, and
secured the heart of his charming Aurelia, now found leisure to unravel
the conspiracy which had been executed against his person; and with that
view commenced a lawsuit against the owner of the house where he and his
mistress had been separately confined. Mr. Shackle was, notwithstanding
all the submissions and atonement which he offered to make, either in
private or in public, indicted on the statute of kidnapping, tried,
convicted, punished by a severe fine and standing in the pillory. A
judicial writ ad inquirendum being executed, the prisons of his
inquisition were laid open, and several innocent captives enlarged.
In the course of Shackle’s trial, it appeared that the knight’s
confinement was a scheme executed by his rival Mr. Sycamore, according to
the device of his counsellor, Dawdle, who, by this contrivance, had
reconciled himself to his patron, after having deserted him in the day of
battle. Our hero was so incensed at this discovery of Sycamore’s
treachery and ingratitude, that he went in quest of him immediately, to
take vengeance on his person, accompanied by Captain Crowe, who wanted to
balance accounts with Mr. Dawdle. But those gentlemen had wisely avoided
the impending storm, by retiring to the continent, on pretence of
travelling for improvement.
Sir Launcelot was not now so much of a knight-errant as to leave Aurelia
to the care of Providence, and pursue the traitors to the farthest
extremities of the earth. He practised a much more easy, certain, and
effectual method of revenge, by instituting a process against them,
which, after writs of capias, alias et pluries, had been repeated,
subjected them both to outlawry. Mr. Sycamore, and his friend, being
thus deprived of the benefit of the law by their own neglect, would
likewise have forfeited their goods and chattels to the King, had not
they made such submissions as appeased the wrath of Sir Launcelot and
Captain Crowe; then they ventured to return, and, by dint of interest,
obtained a reversal of the outlawry. But this grace they did not enjoy
till long after our adventurer was happily established in life.
While the knight waited impatiently for the expiration of Aurelia’s
minority, and in the meantime consoled himself with the imperfect
happiness arising from her conversation, and those indulgences which the
most unblemished virtue could bestow, Captain Crowe projected another
plan of vengeance against the conjurer, whose lying oracles had cost him
such a world of vexation. The truth is, the captain began to be tired of
idleness, and undertook this adventure to keep his hand in use. He
imparted his design to Crabshaw, who had likewise suffered in spirit from
the predictions of the said offender, and was extremely well disposed to
assist in punishing the false prophet. He now took it for granted that
he should not be hanged for stealing a horse; and thought it very hard to
pay so much money for a deceitful prophecy, which, in all likelihood,
would never be fulfilled.
Actuated by these motives, they set out together for the house of
consultation, but they found it shut up and abandoned; and, upon inquiry
in the neighbourhood, learned that the conjurer had moved his quarters
that very day on which the captain had recourse to his art. This was
actually the case. He knew the fate of Sir Launcelot would soon come to
light, and he did not choose to wait the consequence. He had other
motives for decamping. He had run a score at the public-house, which he
had no mind to discharge, and wanted to disengage himself from his female
associate, who knew too much of his affairs to be kept at a proper
distance. All these purposes he had answered by retreating softly,
without beat of drum, while his sibyl was abroad running down prey for
his devouring. He had not, however, taken his measures so cunningly, but
that this old hag discovered his new lodgings, and, in revenge, gave
information to the publican. This creditor took out a writ accordingly,
and the bailiff had just secured his person, as Captain Crowe and Timothy
Crabshaw chanced to pass by the door in their way homewards, through an
obscure street, near the Seven Dials.
The conjurer having no subterfuge left, but a great many particular
reasons for avoiding an explanation with the justice, like the man
between the devil and the deep sea, of two evils chose the least; and
beckoning to the captain, called him by his name. Crowe, thus addressed,
replied with a “Hilloah!” and looking towards the place from whence he
was hailed, at once recognised the necromancer. Without farther
hesitation, he sprang across the street, and, collaring Albumazar,
exclaimed, “Aha! old boy, is the wind in that corner? I thought we
should grapple one day--now will I bring you up by the head, though all
the devils in hell were blowing abaft the beam.”
The bailiff seeing his prisoner so roughly handled before, and at the
same time assaulted behind by Crabshaw, who cried, “Show me a liar, and
I’ll show you a thief--who is to be hanged now?” I say, the bailiff,
fearing he should lose the benefit of his job, began to put on his
contentious face, and, declaring the doctor was his prisoner, swore he
could not surrender him without a warrant from the Lord Chief Justice.
The whole group adjourning into the parlour, the conjurer desired to know
of Crowe whether Sir Launcelot was found. Being answered, “Ey, ey, safe
enough to see you made fast in the bilboes, brother”; he told the captain
he had something of consequence to communicate for his advantage; and
proposed that Crowe and Crabshaw should bail the action, which lay only
for a debt of three pounds.
Crowe stormed, and Crabshaw grinned at this modest proposal; but when
they understood that they could only be bound for his appearance, and
reflected that they need not part with him until his body should be
surrendered unto justice, they consented to give bail; and the bond being
executed, conveyed him directly to the house of our adventurer.
The boisterous Crowe introduced him to Sir Launcelot with such an abrupt
unconnected detail of his offence, as the knight could not understand
without Timothy’s annotations. These were followed by some questions put
to the conjurer, who, laying aside his black gown, and plucking off his
white beard, exhibited to the astonished spectators the very individual
countenance of the empirical politician Ferret, who had played our hero
such a slippery trick after the electioneering adventure.
“I perceive,” said he, “you are preparing to expostulate, and upbraid me
for having given a false information against you to the country justice.
I look upon mankind to be in a state of nature; a truth, which Hobbes has
stumbled upon by accident. I think every man has a right to avail
himself of his talents, even at the expense of his fellow-creatures; just
as we see the fish, and other animals of the creation, devouring one
another. I found the justice but one degree removed from idiotism, and
knowing that he would commit some blunder in the execution of his office,
which would lay him at your mercy, I contrived to make his folly the
instrument of my escape--I was dismissed without being obliged to sign
the information I had given; and you took ample vengeance for his tyranny
and impertinence. I came to London, where my circumstances obliged me to
live in disguise. In the character of a conjurer, I was consulted by
your follower, Crowe, and your squire, Crabshaw. I did little or nothing
but echo back the intelligence they brought me, except prognosticating
that Crabshaw would be hanged; a prediction to which I found myself so
irresistibly impelled, that I am persuaded it was the real effect of
inspiration. I am now arrested for a paltry sum of money, and, moreover,
liable to be sent to Bridewell as an impostor; let those answer for my
conduct whose cruelty and insolence have driven me to the necessity of
using such subterfuges. I have been oppressed and persecuted by the
government for speaking truth; your omnipotent laws have reconciled
contradictions. That which is acknowledged to be truth in fact, is
construed falsehood in law; and great reason we have to boast of a
constitution founded on the basis of absurdity. But, waiving these
remarks, I own I am unwilling to be either imprisoned for debt, or
punished for imposture. I know how far to depend upon generosity, and
what is called benevolence--words to amuse the weak-minded; I build upon
a surer bottom. I will bargain for your assistance. It is in my power
to put twelve thousand pounds in the pocket of Samuel Crowe, that there
sea-ruffian, who, by his goodwill, would hang me to the yard’s arm”----
There he was interrupted by the seaman. “D--n your rat’s eyes! none of
your--hang thee! fish my top-masts! if the rope was fairly reeved, and
the tackle sound, d’ye see”--Mr. Clarke, who was present, began to stare,
while the knight assured Ferret, that if he was really able and willing
to serve Captain Crowe in anything essential, he should be amply
rewarded. In the meantime he discharged the debt, and assigned him an
apartment in his own house. That same day Crowe, by the advice of Sir
Launcelot and his nephew, entered into conditional articles with the
cynic, to allow him the interest of fifteen hundred pounds for life,
provided by this means the captain should obtain possession of the estate
of Hobby Hole in Yorkshire, which had belonged to his grandfather, and of
which he was heir of blood.
This bond being executed, Mr. Ferret discovered that he himself was the
lawful husband of Bridget Maple, aunt to Samuel Crowe, by a clandestine
marriage; which, however, he convinced them he could prove by undeniable
evidence. This being the case, she, the said Bridget Maple, alias
Ferret, was a covert femme, consequently could not transact any deed of
alienation without his concurrence; ergo, the docking of the entail of
the estate of Hobby Hole was illegal and of none effect. This was a very
agreeable declaration to the whole company, who did not fail to
congratulate Captain Crowe on the prospect of his being restored to his
inheritance. Tom Clarke, in particular, protested, with tears in his
eyes, that it gave him unspeakable joy; and his tears trickled the
faster, when Crowe, with an arch look, signified, that now he was pretty
well victualled for life, he had some thoughts of embarking on the voyage
of matrimony.
But that point of happiness to which, as the north pole, the course of
these adventures hath been invariably directed, was still unattained; we
mean, the indissoluble union of the accomplished Sir Launcelot Greaves
and the enchanting Miss Darnel. Our hero now discovered in his mistress
a thousand charms, which hitherto he had no opportunity to contemplate.
He found her beauty excelled by her good sense, and her virtue superior
to both. He found her untainted by that giddiness, vanity, and
affectation, which distinguish the fashionable females of the present
age. He found her uninfected by the rage for diversion and dissipation;
for noise, tumult, gewgaws, glitter, and extravagance. He found her not
only raised by understanding and taste far above the amusement of little
vulgar minds; but even exalted by uncommon genius and refined reflection,
so as to relish the more sublime enjoyments of rational pleasure. He
found her possessed of that vigour of mind which constitutes true
fortitude, and vindicates the empire of reason. He found her heart
incapable of disguise or dissimulation; frank, generous, and open;
susceptible of the most tender impressions; glowing with a keen sense of
honour, and melting with humanity. A youth of his sensibility could not
fail of being deeply affected by such attractions. The nearer he
approached the centre of happiness, the more did the velocity of his
passion increase. Her uncle still remained insensible as it were in the
arms of death. Time seemed to linger in its lapse, till the knight was
inflamed to the most eager degree of impatience. He communicated his
distress to Aurelia; he pressed her with the most pathetic remonstrances
to abridge the torture of his suspense. He interested Mrs. Kawdle in his
behalf; and, at length, his importunities succeeded. The banns of
marriage were regularly published, and the ceremony was performed in the
parish church, in the presence of Dr. Kawdle and his lady, Captain Crowe,
Lawyer Clarke, and Mrs. Dolly Cowslip.
The bride, instead of being disguised in tawdry stuffs of gold and
silver, and sweating under a harness of diamonds, according to the
elegant taste of the times, appeared in a negligee of plain blue satin,
without any other jewels than her eyes, which far outshone all that ever
was produced by the mines of Golconda. Her hair had no other extraneous
ornament than a small sprig of artificial roses; but the dignity of her
air, the elegance of her shape, the sweetness and sensibility of her
countenance, added to such warmth of colouring, and such exquisite
symmetry of features, as could not be excelled by human nature, attracted
the eyes and excited the admiration of all the beholders. The effect
they produced in the heart of Sir Launcelot was such a rapture as we
cannot pretend to describe. He made his appearance on this occasion in a
white coat and blue satin vest, both embroidered with silver; and all who
saw him could not but own that he alone seemed worthy to possess the lady
whom Heaven had destined for his consort. Captain Crowe had taken off a
blue suit of clothes strongly guarded with bars of broad gold-lace, in
order to honour the nuptials of his friend. He wore upon his head a
bag-wig, a la pigeon, made by an old acquaintance in Wapping; and to his
side he had girded a huge plate-hilted sword, which he had bought of a
recruiting serjeant. Mr. Clarke was dressed in pompadour, with gold
buttons; and his lovely Dolly in a smart checked lutestring, a present
from her mistress.
The whole company dined, by invitation, at the house of Dr. Kawdle; and
here it was that the most deserving lovers on the face of the earth
attained to the consummation of all earthly felicity. The captain and
his nephew had a hint to retire in due time. Mrs. Kawdle conducted the
amiable Aurelia, trembling, to the marriage-bed; our hero, glowing with a
bridegroom’s ardour, claimed the husband’s privilege. Hymen lighted up
his brightest torch at Virtue’s lamp, and every star shed its happiest
influence on their Heaven-directed union.
Instructions had been already despatched to prepare Greavesbury Hall for
the reception of its new mistress; and for that place the new-married
couple set out next morning, according to the plan which had been
previously concerted. Sir Launcelot and Lady Greaves, accompanied by
Mrs. Kawdle and attended by Dolly, travelled in their own coach, drawn by
six dappled horses. Dr. Kawdle, with Captain Crowe, occupied the
doctor’s post-chariot, provided with four bays. Mr. Clarke had the
honour to bestride the loins of Bronzomarte. Mr. Ferret was mounted upon
an old hunter; Crabshaw stuck close to his friend Gilbert; and two other
horsemen completed the retinue. There was not an aching heart in the
whole cavalcade, except that of the young lawyer, which was by turns
invaded with hot desires and chilling scruples. Though he was fond of
Dolly to distraction, his regard to worldly reputation, and his attention
to worldly interest, were continually raising up bars to a legal
gratification of his love. His pride was startled at the thought of
marrying the daughter of a poor country publican; and he moreover dreaded
the resentment of his uncle Crowe, should he take any step of this nature
without his concurrence. Many a wishful look did he cast at Dolly, the
tears standing in his eyes, and many a woful sigh did he utter.
Lady Greaves immediately perceived the situation of his heart, and, by
questioning Mrs. Cowslip, discovered a mutual passion between these
lovers. She consulted her dear knight on the subject, and he catechised
the lawyer, who pleaded guilty. The captain being sounded as to his
opinion, declared he would be steered in that, as well as every other
course of life, by Sir Launcelot and his lady, whom he verily revered as
being of an order superior to the ordinary race of mankind. This
favourable response being obtained from the sailor, our hero took an
opportunity on the road, one day after dinner, in presence of the whole
company, to accost the lawyer in these words: “My good friend Clarke, I
have your happiness very much at heart--your father was an honest man, to
whom my family had manifold obligations. I have had these many years a
personal regard for yourself, derived from your own integrity of heart
and goodness of disposition--I see, you are affected, and shall be brief
--Besides this regard, I am indebted to your friendship for the liberty--
what shall I say?--for the inestimable happiness I now enjoy, in
possessing the most excellent--But I understand that significant glance
of my Aurelia, I will not offend her delicacy--The truth is, my
obligation is very great, and it is time I should evince my gratitude--
If the stewardship of my estate is worth your acceptance, you shall have
it immediately, together with the house and farm of Cockerton in my
neighbourhood. I know you have a passion for Mrs. Dolly; and believe she
looks upon you with the eyes of tender prepossession--don’t blush, Dolly
--Besides your agreeable person, which all the world must approve, you
can boast of virtue, fidelity, and friendship. Your attachment to Lady
Greaves neither she nor I shall ever forget--If you are willing to unite
your fate with Mr. Clarke, your mistress gives me leave to assure you she
will stock the farm at her own expense, and we will celebrate the wedding
at Greavesbury Hall”--
By this time the hearts of these grateful lovers had overflowed. Dolly
was sitting on her knees, bathing her lady’s hand with her tears, and Mr.
Clarke appeared in the same attitude by Sir Launcelot. The uncle, almost
as affected as the nephew by the generosity of our adventurer, cried
aloud, “I pray God that you and your glorious consort may have smooth
seas and gentle gales whithersoever you are bound; as for my kinsman Tom,
I’ll give him a thousand pounds to set him fairly afloat; and if he prove
not a faithful tender to you his benefactor, I hope he will founder in
this world, and be damned in that which is to come.” Nothing now was
wanting to the completion of their happiness but the consent of Dolly’s
mother at the Black Lion, who they did not suppose could have any
objection to such an advantageous match for her daughter; but in this
particular they were mistaken.
In the meantime they arrived at the village where the knight had
exercised the duties of chivalry; and there he received the gratulation
of Mr. Fillet and the attorney who had offered to bail him before Justice
Gobble. Mutual civilities having passed, they gave him to understand
that Gobble and his wife were turned Methodists. All the rest of the
prisoners whom he had delivered came to testify their gratitude, and were
hospitably entertained. Next day they halted at the Black Lion, where
the good woman was overjoyed to see Dolly so happily preferred; but when
Sir Launcelot unfolded the proposed marriage, she interrupted him with a
scream--“Christ Jesus forbid--marry and amen!--match with her own
brother!”
At this exclamation Dolly fainted; her lover stood with his ears erect,
and his mouth wide open; Crowe stared, while the knight and his lady
expressed equal surprise and concern. When Sir Launcelot entreated Mrs.
Cowslip to explain this mystery, she told him, that about sixteen years
ago, Mr. Clarke, senior, had brought Dolly, then an infant, to her house,
when she and her late husband lived in another part of the country; and
as she had then been lately delivered of a child which did not live,
he hired her as a nurse to the little foundling. He owned she was a
love-begotten babe, and from time to time paid handsomely for the board
of Dolly, who he desired might pass for her own daughter. In his last
illness, he assured her he had taken care to provide for the child; but
since his death she had received no account of any such provision. She
moreover informed his honour, that Mr. Clarke had deposited in her hands
a diamond ring, and a sealed paper, never to be opened without his order,
until Dolly should be demanded in marriage by the man she should like,
and not then, except in the presence of the clergyman of the parish.
“Send for the clergyman this instant,” cried our hero, reddening, and
fixing his eyes on Dolly; “I hope all will yet be well.”
The vicar arriving, and being made acquainted with the nature of the
case, the landlady produced the paper; which, being opened, appeared to
be an authentic certificate, that the person commonly known by the name
of Dorothy Cowslip, was in fact Dorothy Greaves, daughter of Jonathan
Greaves, Esq., by a young gentlewoman who had been some years deceased.
“The remaining part of the mystery I myself can unfold,” exclaimed the
knight, while he ran and embraced the astonished Dolly as his kinswoman.
“Jonathan Greaves was my uncle, and died before he came of age, so that
he could make no settlement on his child, the fruit of a private amour,
founded on a promise of marriage, of which this ring was a token. Mr.
Clarke, being his confidant, disposed of the child, and at length,
finding his constitution decay, revealed the secret to my father, who in
his will bequeathed one hundred pounds a year to this agreeable
foundling; but, as they both died while I was abroad, and some of the
memorandums touching this transaction probably were mislaid, I never till
now could discover where or how my pretty cousin was situated. I shall
recompense the good woman for her care and fidelity, and take pleasure in
bringing this affair to a happy issue.”
The lovers were now overwhelmed with transports of joy and gratitude, and
every countenance was lighted up with satisfaction. From this place to
the habitation of Sir Launcelot, the bells were rung in every parish, and
the corporation in their formalities congratulated him in every town
through which he passed. About five miles from Greavesbury Hall he was
met by above five thousand persons of both sexes and every age, dressed
out in their gayest apparel, headed by Mr. Ralph Mattocks from Darnel
Hill, and the rector from the knight’s own parish. They were preceded by
music of different kinds, ranged under a great variety of flags and
ensigns; and the women, as well as the men, bedizened with fancy knots
and marriage favours. At the end of the avenue, a select bevy of comely
virgins arrayed in white, and a separate band of choice youths
distinguished by garlands of laurel and holly interweaved, fell into the
procession, and sung in chorus a rustic epithalamium composed by the
curate. At the gate they were received by the venerable housekeeper,
Mrs. Oakley, whose features were so brightened by the occasion, that with
the first glance she made a conquest of the heart of Captain Crowe; and
this connexion was improved afterwards into a legal conjunction.
Meanwhile the houses of Greavesbury Hall and Darnel Hill were set open
for the entertainment of all-comers, and both echoed with the sounds of
festivity. After the ceremony of giving and receiving visits had been
performed by Sir Launcelot Greaves and his lady, Mr. Clarke was honoured
with the hand of the agreeable Miss Dolly Greaves; and the captain was
put in possession of his paternal estate. The perfect and uninterrupted
felicity of the knight and his endearing consort, diffused itself through
the whole adjacent country, as far as their example and influence could
extend. They were admired, esteemed, and applauded by every person of
taste, sentiment, and benevolence; at the same time beloved, revered, and
almost adored by the common people, among whom they suffered not the
merciless hand of indigence or misery to seize one single sacrifice.
Ferret, at first, seemed to enjoy his easy circumstances; but the novelty
of this situation soon wore off, and all his misanthropy returned. He
could not bear to see his fellow-creatures happy around him, and
signified his disgust to Sir Launcelot, declaring his intention of
returning to the metropolis, where he knew there would be always food
sufficient for the ravenous appetite of his spleen. Before he departed,
the knight made him partake of his bounty, though he could not make him
taste of his happiness, which soon received a considerable addition in
the birth of a son, destined to be the heir and representative of two
worthy families, whose mutual animosity the union of his parents had so
happily extinguished.