I was this morning surprised with a great knocking at the door, when my
landlady's daughter came up to me, and told me that there was a man below
desired to speak with me. Upon my asking her who it was, she told me it
was a very grave elderly person, but that she did not know his name. I
immediately went down to him, and found him to be the coachman of my
worthy friend Sir Roger de Coverley. He told me, that his master came to
town last night, and would be glad to take a turn[152] with me in Gray's
Inn walks. As I was wondering in myself what had brought Sir Roger to
town, not having lately received any letter from him, he told me that his
master was come up to get a sight of Prince Eugene[153], and that he
desired I would immediately meet him.
I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the old Knight, though I
did not much wonder at it, having heard him say more than once in private
discourse, that he looked upon Prince Eugenio (for so the Knight always
calls him) to be a greater man than Scanderbeg[154].
I was no sooner come into Gray's Inn walks, but I heard my friend upon
the terrace hemming[155] twice or thrice to himself with great vigour,
for he loves to clear his pipes in good air (to make use of his own
phrase), and is not a little pleased with any one who takes notice of the
strength which he still exerts in his morning hems.
I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the good old man, who
before he saw me was engaged in conversation with a beggar man that had
asked an alms of him. I could hear my friend chide him for not finding
out some work; but at the same time saw him put his hand in his pocket
and give him sixpence.
Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, consisting of many kind
shakes of the hand, and several affectionate looks which we cast upon one
another. After which the Knight told me my good friend his chaplain was
very well, and much at my service, and that the Sunday before he had made
a most incomparable sermon out of Dr. Barrow. "I have left," says he,
"all my affairs in his hands, and being willing to lay an obligation upon
him, have deposited with him thirty merks[156], to be distributed among
his poor parishioners."
He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare of Will Wimble. Upon
which he put his hand into his fob[157], and presented me in his name
with a tobacco-stopper, telling me that Will had been busy all the
beginning of the winter in turning great quantities of them; and that he
made a present of one to every gentleman in the country who has good
principles, and smokes. He added, that poor Will was at present under
great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy had taken the law of him for
cutting some hazel-sticks out of one of his hedges.
Among other pieces of news which the Knight brought from his country
seat, he informed me that Moll White was dead; and that about a month
after her death the wind was so very high, that it blew down the end of
one of his barns. "But for my own part," says Sir Roger, "I do not think
that the old woman had any hand in it."
He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions which had passed in
his house during the holidays; for Sir Roger, after the laudable custom
of his ancestors, always keeps open house at Christmas. I learned from
him that he had killed eight fat hogs for this season, that he had dealt
about his chines very liberally amongst his neighbours, and that in
particular he had sent a string of hogs-puddings with a pack of cards to
every poor family in the parish. "I have often thought," says Sir Roger,
"it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of
winter. It is the most dead uncomfortable time of the year, when the
poor people would suffer very much from their poverty and cold, if they
had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to support them. I
love to rejoice their poor hearts at this season, and to see the whole
village merry in my great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my
small beer, and set it a running for twelve days to every one that calls
for it. I have always a piece of cold beef and a mince-pie upon the
table, and am wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a whole
evening in playing their innocent tricks, and smutting one another[158].
Our friend Will Wimble is as merry as any of them, and shows a thousand
roguish tricks upon these occasions."
I was very much delighted with the reflection of my old friend, which
carried so much goodness in it. He then launched out into the praise of
the late Act of Parliament[159] for securing the Church of England, and
told me, with great satisfaction, that he believed it already began to
take effect, for that a rigid dissenter who chanced to dine at his house
on Christmas Day, had been observed to eat very plentifully of his
plum-porridge[160].
After having dispatched all our country matters, Sir Roger made several
inquiries concerning the club, and particularly of his old antagonist Sir
Andrew Freeport. He asked me with a kind of a smile, whether Sir Andrew
had not taken the advantage of his absence, to vent among them some of
his republican doctrines; but soon after gathering up his countenance
into a more than ordinary seriousness, "Tell me truly," says he, "do not
you think Sir Andrew had a hand in the Pope's procession[161]?"--but
without giving me time to answer him, "Well, well," says he, "I know you
are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public matters."
The Knight then asked me if I had seen Prince Eugenio, and made me
promise to get him a stand in some convenient place, where he might have
a full sight of that extraordinary man, whose presence does so much
honour to the British nation. He dwelt very long on the praises of this
great general, and I found that, since I was with him in the country, he
had drawn many just observations together out of his reading in Baker's
_Chronicle_[162], and other authors, who always lie in his hall window,
which very much redound to the honour of this prince.
Having passed away the greatest part of the morning in hearing the
Knight's reflections, which were partly private, and partly political, he
asked me if I would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at
Squire's. As I love the old man, I take delight in complying with
everything that is agreeable to him, and accordingly waited on[163] him
to the coffee-house, where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of
the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself at the upper end of the
high table, but he called for a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of
coffee, a wax-candle, and the _Supplement_, with such an air of
cheerfulness and good humour, that all the boys[164] in the coffee-room
(who seemed to take pleasure in serving him) were at once employed on his
several errands, insomuch that nobody else could come at a dish of tea,
until the Knight had got all his conveniences about him.