Chapter iv.

In which the arrival of a man of war puts a final end to hostilities,

and causes the conclusion of a firm and lasting peace between all

parties.

A serjeant and a file of musqueteers, with a deserter in their

custody, arrived about this time. The serjeant presently enquired for

the principal magistrate of the town, and was informed by my landlord,

that he himself was vested in that office. He then demanded his

billets, together with a mug of beer, and complaining it was cold,

spread himself before the kitchen fire.

Mr Jones was at this time comforting the poor distressed lady, who sat

down at a table in the kitchen, and leaning her head upon her arm, was

bemoaning her misfortunes; but lest my fair readers should be in pain

concerning a particular circumstance, I think proper here to acquaint

them, that before she had quitted the room above stairs, she had so

well covered herself with a pillowbeer which she there found, that her

regard to decency was not in the least violated by the presence of so

many men as were now in the room.

One of the soldiers now went up to the serjeant, and whispered

something in his ear; upon which he stedfastly fixed his eyes on the

lady, and having looked at her for near a minute, he came up to her,

saying, “I ask pardon, madam; but I am certain I am not deceived; you

can be no other person than Captain Waters's lady?”

The poor woman, who in her present distress had very little regarded

the face of any person present, no sooner looked at the serjeant than

she presently recollected him, and calling him by his name, answered,

“That she was indeed the unhappy person he imagined her to be;” but

added, “I wonder any one should know me in this disguise.” To which

the serjeant replied, “He was very much surprized to see her ladyship

in such a dress, and was afraid some accident had happened to

her.”--“An accident hath happened to me, indeed,” says she, “and I am

highly obliged to this gentleman” (pointing to Jones) “that it was not

a fatal one, or that I am now living to mention it.”--“Whatever the

gentleman hath done,” cries the serjeant, “I am sure the captain will

make him amends for it; and if I can be of any service, your ladyship

may command me, and I shall think myself very happy to have it in my

power to serve your ladyship; and so indeed may any one, for I know

the captain will well reward them for it.”

The landlady, who heard from the stairs all that past between the

serjeant and Mrs Waters, came hastily down, and running directly up to

her, began to ask pardon for the offences she had committed, begging

that all might be imputed to ignorance of her quality: for, “Lud!

madam,” says she, “how should I have imagined that a lady of your

fashion would appear in such a dress? I am sure, madam, if I had once

suspected that your ladyship was your ladyship, I would sooner have

burnt my tongue out, than have said what I have said; and I hope your

ladyship will accept of a gown, till you can get your own cloaths.”

“Prithee, woman,” says Mrs Waters, “cease your impertinence: how can

you imagine I should concern myself about anything which comes from

the lips of such low creatures as yourself? But I am surprized at your

assurance in thinking, after what is past, that I will condescend to

put on any of your dirty things. I would have you know, creature, I

have a spirit above that.”

Here Jones interfered, and begged Mrs Waters to forgive the landlady,

and to accept her gown: “for I must confess,” cries he, “our

appearance was a little suspicious when first we came in; and I am

well assured all this good woman did was, as she professed, out of

regard to the reputation of her house.”

“Yes, upon my truly was it,” says she: “the gentleman speaks very much

like a gentleman, and I see very plainly is so; and to be certain the

house is well known to be a house of as good reputation as any on the

road, and though I say it, is frequented by gentry of the best

quality, both Irish and English. I defy anybody to say black is my

eye, for that matter. And, as I was saying, if I had known your

ladyship to be your ladyship, I would as soon have burnt my fingers as

have affronted your ladyship; but truly where gentry come and spend

their money, I am not willing that they should be scandalized by a set

of poor shabby vermin, that, wherever they go, leave more lice than

money behind them; such folks never raise my compassion, for to be

certain it is foolish to have any for them; and if our justices did as

they ought, they would be all whipt out of the kingdom, for to be

certain it is what is most fitting for them. But as for your ladyship,

I am heartily sorry your ladyship hath had a misfortune, and if your

ladyship will do me the honour to wear my cloaths till you can get

some of your ladyship's own, to be certain the best I have is at your

ladyship's service.”

Whether cold, shame, or the persuasions of Mr Jones prevailed most on

Mrs Waters, I will not determine, but she suffered herself to be

pacified by this speech of my landlady, and retired with that good

woman, in order to apparel herself in a decent manner.

My landlord was likewise beginning his oration to Jones, but was

presently interrupted by that generous youth, who shook him heartily

by the hand, and assured him of entire forgiveness, saying, “If you

are satisfied, my worthy friend, I promise you I am;” and indeed, in

one sense, the landlord had the better reason to be satisfied; for he

had received a bellyfull of drubbing, whereas Jones had scarce felt a

single blow.

Partridge, who had been all this time washing his bloody nose at the

pump, returned into the kitchen at the instant when his master and the

landlord were shaking hands with each other. As he was of a peaceable

disposition, he was pleased with those symptoms of reconciliation; and

though his face bore some marks of Susan's fist, and many more of her

nails, he rather chose to be contented with his fortune in the last

battle than to endeavour at bettering it in another.

The heroic Susan was likewise well contented with her victory, though

it had cost her a black eye, which Partridge had given her at the

first onset. Between these two, therefore, a league was struck, and

those hands which had been the instruments of war became now the

mediators of peace.

Matters were thus restored to a perfect calm; at which the serjeant,

though it may seem so contrary to the principles of his profession,

testified his approbation. “Why now, that's friendly,” said he; “d--n

me, I hate to see two people bear ill-will to one another after they

have had a tussel. The only way when friends quarrel is to see it out

fairly in a friendly manner, as a man may call it, either with a fist,

or sword, or pistol, according as they like, and then let it be all

over; for my own part, d--n me if ever I love my friend better than

when I am fighting with him! To bear malice is more like a Frenchman

than an Englishman.”

He then proposed a libation as a necessary part of the ceremony at all

treaties of this kind. Perhaps the reader may here conclude that he

was well versed in antient history; but this, though highly probable,

as he cited no authority to support the custom, I will not affirm with

any confidence. Most likely indeed it is, that he founded his opinion

on very good authority, since he confirmed it with many violent oaths.

Jones no sooner heard the proposal than, immediately agreeing with the

learned serjeant, he ordered a bowl, or rather a large mug, filled

with the liquor used on these occasions, to be brought in, and then

began the ceremony himself. He placed his right hand in that of the

landlord, and, seizing the bowl with his left, uttered the usual

words, and then made his libation. After which, the same was observed

by all present. Indeed, there is very little need of being particular

in describing the whole form, as it differed so little from those

libations of which so much is recorded in antient authors and their

modern transcribers. The principal difference lay in two instances;

for, first, the present company poured the liquor only down their

throats; and, secondly, the serjeant, who officiated as priest, drank

the last; but he preserved, I believe, the antient form, in swallowing

much the largest draught of the whole company, and in being the only

person present who contributed nothing towards the libation besides

his good offices in assisting at the performance.

The good people now ranged themselves round the kitchen fire, where

good humour seemed to maintain an absolute dominion; and Partridge not

only forgot his shameful defeat, but converted hunger into thirst, and

soon became extremely facetious. We must however quit this agreeable

assembly for a while, and attend Mr Jones to Mrs Waters's apartment,

where the dinner which he had bespoke was now on the table. Indeed, it

took no long time in preparing, having been all drest three days

before, and required nothing more from the cook than to warm it over

again.