CHAPTER XI

We descry the Waggon—get into it—arrive at an inn—our Fellow Travellers

described—a Mistake is committed by Strap, which produces strange

things

We travelled half-a-mile without exchanging one word; my thoughts being

engrossed by the knavery of the world, to which I must be daily

exposed, and the contemplation of my finances, which began sensibly to

diminish. At length, Strap, who could hold no longer, addressed me

thus: “Well, fools and their money are soon parted. If my advice had

been taken, that old skin-flint should have been d—n’d before he had

got more than the third of his demand. ’Tis a sure sign you came easily

by your money, when you squander it away in this manner. Ah! God help

you, how many bristly beards must I have mowed before I earned four

shillings and threepence-halfpenny, which is all thrown to the dogs!

How many days have I sat weaving hair till my toes were numbed by the

cold, my fingers cramped, and my nose as blue as the sign of the

periwig that hung over the door! What the devil was you afraid of? I

would have engaged to box with any one of those fellows who came in for

a guinea—I’m sure—I have beat stouter men than either of them.” And,

indeed, my companion would have fought anybody when his life was in no

danger; but he had a mortal aversion to fire-arms and all instruments

of death. In order to appease him, I assured him no part of this

extraordinary expense should fall upon his shoulders; at which

declaration he was affronted, and told me he would have me to know

that, although he was a poor barber’s boy, yet he had a soul to spend

big money with the best squire of the land.

Having walked all day at a great pace, without halting for a

refreshment, we descried, toward the evening, to our inexpressible joy,

the waggon about a quarter of a mile before us; and, by that time we

reached it, were both of us so weary that I verily believe it would

have been impracticable for us to have walked one mile farther. We,

therefore, bargained with the driver, whose name was Joey, to give us a

cast to the next stage for a shilling; at which place we should meet

the master of the waggon, with whom we might agree for the rest of the

journey.

Accordingly the convenience stopped, and Joey having placed the ladder,

Strap (being loaded with our baggage) mounted first; but, just as he

was getting in, a tremendous voice assailed his ears in these words:

“God’s fury! there shall no passengers come here.” The poor shaver was

so disconcerted at this exclamation, which both he and I imagined

proceeded from the mouth of a giant, that he descended with great

velocity and a countenance as white as paper. Joey, perceiving our

astonishment, called, with an arch sneer, “Waunds, coptain, whay woant

yau sooffer the poor waggoneer to meake a penny? Coom, coom, young man,

get oop, get oop, never moind the coptain; I’se not afeard of the

coptain.”

This was not encouragement sufficient to Strap, who could not be

prevailed upon to venture up again; upon which I attempted, though not

without a quaking heart, when I heard the same voice muttering, like

distant thunder—“Hell and the devil confound me, if I don’t make you

smart for this!” However, I crept in, and by accident got an empty

place in the straw, which I immediately took possession of, without

being able to discern the faces of my fellow-travellers in the dark.

Strap following, with the knapsack on his back, chanced to take the

other side, and, by a jolt of the carriage, pitched directly upon the

stomach of the captain, who bellowed out, in a most dreadful manner,

“Blood and thunder! where’s my sword?” At these words my frighted

comrade started up, and, at one spring, bounced against me with such

force that I thought he was the supposed son of Anak, who intended to

press me to death. In the meantime a female voice cried, “Bless me!

what is the matter, my dear?” “The matter,” replied the captain, “d—n

my blood! my guts are squeezed into a pancake by that Scotchman’s

hump.” Strap, trembling all the while at my back, asked him pardon, and

laid the blame of what had happened upon the jolting of the waggon; and

the woman who spoke before went on: “Ay, ay, my dear, it is our own

fault; we may thank ourselves for all the inconveniences we meet with.

I thank God I never travelled so before. I am sure if my lady or Sir

John were to know where we are they would not sleep this night for

vexation. I wish to God we had writ for the chariot; I know we shall

never be forgiven.” “Come, come, my dear,” replied the captain, “it

don’t signify fretting now; we shall laugh it over as a frolic; I hope

you will not suffer in your health. I shall make my lord very merry

with our adventures in this diligence.”

The discourse gave me such a high notion of the captain and his lady

that I durst not venture to join in the conversation; but immediately

after another female voice began: “Some people give themselves a great

many needless airs; better folks than any here have travelled in

waggons before now. Some of us have rode in coaches and chariots, with

three footmen behind them, without making so much fuss about it. What

then? We are now all upon a footing; therefore let us be sociable and

merry. What do you say, Isaac? Is not this a good motion, you doting

rogue? Speak, you old cent per cent fornicator? What desperate debt are

you thinking of? What mortgage are you planning? Well, Isaac,

positively you shall never gain my favour till you turn over a new

leaf, grow honest, and live like a gentleman. In the meantime give me a

kiss, you old fumbler.” These words, accompanied with a hearty smack,

enlivened the person to whom they were addressed to such a degree that

he cried, in transport, though with a faltering voice, “Ah! you wanton

baggage—upon my credit, you are a waggish girl—he, he, he!” This laugh

introduced a fit of coughing, which almost suffocated the poor usurer

(such we afterwards found was the profession of this our

fellow-traveller).

About this time I fell asleep, and enjoyed a comfortable nap till such

time as we arrived at the inn where we put up. Here, having alighted

from the waggon, I had an opportunity of viewing the passengers in

order as they entered. The first who appeared was a brisk, airy girl,

about twenty years old, with a silver-laced hat on her head instead of

a cap, a blue stuff riding-suit, trimmed with silver very much

tarnished, and a whip in her hand. After her came, limping, an old man,

with a worsted nightcap buttoned under his chin, and a broad-brimmed

hat slouched over it, an old rusty blue cloak tied about his neck,

under which appeared a brown surtout, that covered a threadbare coat

and waistcoat, and, as he afterwards discerned, a dirty flannel jacket.

His eyes were hollow, bleared, and gummy; his face was shrivelled into

a thousand wrinkles, his gums were destitute of teeth, his nose sharp

and drooping, his chin peaked and prominent, so that, when he mumped or

spoke, they approached one another like a pair of nutcrackers: he

supported himself on an ivory-headed cane and his whole figure was a

just emblem of winter, famine, and avarice. But how was I surprised,

when I beheld the formidable captain in the shape of a little thin

creature, about the age of forty, with a long withered visage, very

much resembling that of a baboon, through the upper part of which two

little gray eyes peeped: he wore his own hair in a queue that reached

to his rump, which immoderate length, I suppose, was the occasion of a

baldness that appeared on the crown of his head when he deigned to take

off his hat, which was very much of the size and cock of Pistol’s.

Having laid aside his great-coat, I could not help admiring the

extraordinary make of this man of war: he was about five feet and three

inches high, sixteen inches of which went to his face and long scraggy

neck: his thighs were about six inches in length, his legs resembling

spindles or drumsticks, five feet and a half, and his body, which put

me in mind of extension without substance, engrossed the remainder: so

that on the whole, he appeared like a spider or grasshopper erect, and

was almost a vox et praeterea nihil. His dress consisted of a frock of

what is called bearskin, the skirts of which were about half a foot

long, an hussar waistcoat, scarlet breeches reaching half way down his

thighs, worsted stockings rolled up almost to his groin, and shoes with

wooden heels at least two inches high; he carried a sword very near as

long as himself in one hand, and with the other conducted his lady, who

seemed to be a woman of his own age, and still retained some remains of

an agreeable person, but so ridiculously affected, that, had I not been

a novice in the world, I might have easily perceived in her the

deplorable vanity and second-hand airs of a lady’s woman.

We were all assembled in the kitchen, when Captain Weazel (for that was

his name) desired a room with a fire for himself and spouse, and told

the landlord they would up by themselves. The innkeeper replied that he

could not afford them a room by themselves; and as for supping, he had

prepared victuals for the passengers in the waggon, without respect of

persons, but if he could prevail on the rest to let him have his choice

in a separate manner, he should be very well pleased. This was no

sooner said than all of us declared against the proposal, and Miss

Jenny (our other female passenger), observed that, if Captain Weazel

and his lady had a mind to sup by themselves, they might wait until we

should have done. At this hint the captain put on a martial frown, and

looked very big, without speaking; while his yokefellow, with a

disdainful toss of her nose, muttered something about “Creature!” which

Miss Jenny overhearing, stepped up to her, saying, “None of your names,

good Mrs. Abigail. Creature, quotha—I’ll assure you no such creature as

you neither—no ten-pound sneaker—no quality-coupler.” Here the captain

interposed, with a “D—e, madam, what do you mean by that?” “D—n you

sir, who are you?” replied Miss Jenny, “who made you a captain, you

pitiful, trencher-scraping, pimping curler? ’Sdeath! the army is come

to a fine pass, when such fellows as you get commissions. What, I

suppose you think I don’t know you? Egad, you and your helpmate are

well met—a cast-off mistress and a bald valet-de-chambre are well yoked

together.” “Blood and wounds!” cried Weazel, “d’ye question the honour

of my wife, madam? Hell and d-ion! No man in England durst say so

much—I would flay him, carbonado him! Fury and destruction! I would

have his liver for my supper.” So saying, he drew his sword and

flourished with it, to the great terror of Strap; while Miss Jenny,

snapping her fingers, told him she did not value his resentment a

louse.

In the midst of this quarrel the master of the waggon alighted, who,

understanding the cause of the disturbance, and fearing the captain and

his lady would take umbrage and leave his carriage, was at great pains

to have everything made up, which he at last accomplished, and we sat

down to supper altogether. At bedtime we were shown to our apartments;

the old usurer, Strap, and I, to one room; the captain, his wife, and

Miss Jenny, to another. About midnight, my companion’s bowels being

disordered, he got up, in order to go backward, but in his return,

mistaking one door for another, entered Weazel’s chamber, and without

any hesitation went to bed to his wife, who was fast asleep, the

captain being at another end of the room groping for some empty vessel,

in lieu of his own chamberpot, which was leaky: as he did not perceive

Strap coming in, he went towards his own bed, after having found a

convenience; but no sooner did he feel a rough head, covered with a

cotton nightcap, than it came into his mind that he had mistaken Miss

Jenny’s bed instead of his own, and that the head he felt was that of

some gallant, with whom she had made an assignation. Full of his

conjecture, and scandalised at the prostitution of his apartment, he

snatched up the vessel he had just before filled, and emptied it at

once on the astonished barber and his own wife, who waking at that

instant, broke forth into lamentable cries, which not only alarmed the

husband beyond measure, but frighted poor Strap almost out of his

senses; for he verily believed himself bewitched, especially when the

incensed captain seized him by the throat, with a volley of oaths,

asking him how he durst have the presumption to attempt the chastity of

his wife. Poor Strap was so amazed and confounded, that he could say

nothing but—“I take God to witness she’s a virgin for me.”

Mrs. Weazel, enraged to find herself in such a pickle through the

precipitation of her husband, arose in her shift, and with the heel of

her shoe which she found by the bedside, belaboured the captain’s bald

pate till he roared “Murder.” “I’ll teach you to empty your stinkpots

on me,” cried she, “you pitiful hop-o’-my-thumb coxcomb. What, I

warrant you’re jealous, you man of lath. Was it for this I condescended

to take you to my bed, you poor, withered, sapless twig?”

The noise occasioned by this adventure had brought the master of the

waggon and me to the door, where we overheard all that passed with

great satisfaction. In the meantime we were alarmed with the cry of

“Rape! Murder! Rape!” which Jenny pronounced with great vociferation.

“Oh! You vile abominable old villain,” said she, “would you rob me of

my virtue? But I’ll be revenged of you, you old goat! I will! Help! for

heaven’s sake! help! I shall be ravished! ruined! help!” Some servants

of the inn, hearing this cry, came running upstairs with lights, and

such weapons as chance afforded; when we beheld a very diverting scene.

In one corner stood the poor captain shivering in his shirt, which was

all torn to rags: with a woeful visage, scratched all over by his wife,

who had by this time wrapped the counterpane about her, and sat sobbing

on the side of her bed. At the other end lay the old usurer, sprawling

on Miss Jenny’s bed, with his flannel jacket over his shirt, and his

tawny meagre limbs exposed to the air; while she held him fast by the

two ears, and loaded him with execrations. When he asked what was the

matter, she affected to weep, told us she was afraid that wicked rogue

had ruined her in her sleep, and bade us take notice of what we saw,

for she intended to make use of our evidence against him. The poor

wretch looked like one more dead than alive, and begged to be released;

a favour which he had no sooner obtained than he protested she was no

woman, but a devil incarnate—that she had first seduced his flesh to

rebel, and then betrayed him. “Yes, cockatrice,” continued he, “you

know you laid this snare for me—but you shan’t succeed—for I will hang

myself before you shall get a farthing of me.” So saying, he crawled to

his own bed, groaning all the way. We then advanced to the Captain, who

told us, “Gentlemen, here has been a d—d mistake; but I’ll be revenged

on him who was the cause of it. That Scotchman who carries the knapsack

shall not breathe this vital air another day, if my name be Weazel. My

dear, I ask you ten thousand pardons; you are sensible, I could mean no

harm to you.” “I know not what you meant,” replied she, sighing, “but I

know I have got enough to send me to my grave.” At length they were

reconciled. The wife was complimented with a share of Miss Jenny’s bed

(her own being overflowed), and the master of the waggon invited Weazel

to sleep the remaining part of the night with him. I retired to mine,

where I found Strap mortally afraid, he having stolen away in the dark

while the captain and his lady were at loggerheads.