The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves - Tobias Smollett
"The old gentleman, God rest his soul, never held up his head after the
departure of his darling Launcelot, and the dangerous condition of
Darnel kept up his apprehension. This was reinforced by the obstinate
silence of the youth, and certain accounts of his disordered mind,
which he had received from some of those persons who take pleasure in
communicating disagreeable tidings. A complication of all these
grievances, co-operating with a severe fit of the gout and gravel,
produced a fever, which, in a few days, brought Sir Everhard to his long
home, after he had settled his affairs with heaven and earth, and made
his peace with God and man. I'll assure you, gemmen, he made a most
edifying and Christian end; he died regretted by all his neighbours
except Anthony, and might be said to be embalmed by the tears of the
poor, to whom he was always a bounteous benefactor.
"When the son, now Sir Launcelot, came home, he appeared so meagre, wan,
and hollow-eyed, that the servants hardly knew their young master. His
first care was to take possession of his fortune, and settle accounts
with the steward who had succeeded my father. These affairs being
discussed, he spared no pains to get intelligence concerning Miss Darnel;
and soon learned more of that young lady than he desired to know; for it
was become the common talk of the country, that a match was agreed upon
between her and young Squire Sycamore, a gentleman of a very great
fortune. These tidings were probably confirmed under her own hand, in a
letter which she wrote to Sir Launcelot. The contents were never exactly
known but to the parties themselves; nevertheless, the effects were too
visible, for, from that blessed moment, he spoke not one word to any
living creature for the space of three days; but was seen sometimes to
shed a flood of tears, and sometimes to burst out into a fit of laughing.
At last he broke silence, and seemed to wake from his disorder. He
became more fond than ever of the exercise of riding, and began to amuse
himself again with acts of benevolence.
"One instance of his generosity and justice deserves to be recorded in
brass or marble. You must know, gemmen, the rector of the parish was
lately dead, and Sir Everhard had promised the presentation to another
clergyman. In the meantime, Sir Launcelot chancing one Sunday to ride
through a lane, perceived a horse saddled and bridled, feeding on the
side of a fence; and, casting his eyes around, beheld on the other side
of the hedge an object lying extended on the ground, which he took to be
the body of a murdered traveller. He forthwith alighted, and, leaping
into the field, descried a man at full length, wrapped in a greatcoat and
writhing in agony. Approaching nearer, he found it was a clergyman, in
his gown and cassock. When he inquired into the case, and offered his
assistance, the stranger rose up, thanked him for his courtesy, and
declared that he was now very well. The knight who thought there was
something mysterious in this incident, expressed a desire to know the
cause of his rolling in the grass in that manner, and the clergyman, who
knew his person, made no scruple in gratifying his curiosity. 'You must
know, sir,' said he, 'I serve the curacy of your own parish, for which
the late incumbent paid me twenty pounds a year; but this sum being
scarce sufficient to maintain my wife and children, who are five in
number, I agreed to read prayers in the afternoon at another church,
about four miles from hence; and for this additional duty I receive ten
pounds more. As I keep a horse, it was formerly an agreeable exercise
rather than a toil; but of late years I have been afflicted with a
rupture, for which I consulted the most eminent operators in the kingdom;
but I have no cause to rejoice in the effects of their advice, though one
of them assured me I was completely cured. The malady is now more
troublesome than ever, and often comes upon me so violently while I am on
horseback, that I am forced to alight, and lie down upon the ground,
until the cause of the disorder can for the time be reduced.'
"Sir Launcelot not only condoled with him upon his misfortune, but
desired him to throw up the second cure, and he would pay him ten pounds
a year out of his own pocket. 'Your generosity confounds me, good sir,'
replied the clergyman; 'and yet I ought not to be surprised at any
instance of benevolence in Sir Launcelot Greaves; but I will check the
fulness of my heart. I shall only observe, that your good intention
towards me can hardly take effect. The gentleman, who is to succeed the
late incumbent, has given me notice to quit the premises, as he hath
provided a friend of his own for the curacy.' 'What!' cried the knight,
'does he mean to take your bread from you, without assigning any other
reason?' 'Surely, sir,' replied the ecclesiastic, 'I know of no other
reason. I hope my morals are irreproachable, and that I have done my
duty with a conscientious regard; I may venture an appeal to the
parishioners among whom I have lived these seventeen years. After all,
it is natural for every man to favour his own friends in preference to
strangers. As for me, I propose to try my fortune in the great city, and
I doubt not but Providence will provide for me and my little ones.'
"To this declaration Sir Launcelot made no reply; but, riding home, set
on foot a strict inquiry into the character of this man, whose name was
Jenkins. He found that he was a reputed scholar, equally remarkable for
his modesty and good life; that he visited the sick, assisted the needy,
compromised disputes among his neighbours, and spent his time in such a
manner as would have done honour to any Christian divine. Thus informed,
the knight sent for the gentleman to whom the living had been promised,
and accosted him to this effect: 'Mr. Tootle, I have a favour to ask of
you. The person who serves the cure of this parish is a man of good
character, beloved by the people, and has a large family. I shall be
obliged to you if you will continue him in the curacy.' The other told
him he was sorry he could not comply with his request, being that he had
already promised the curacy to a friend of his own. 'No matter,' replied
Sir Launcelot, 'since I have not interest with you, I will endeavour to
provide for Mr. Jenkins in some other way.'
"That same afternoon he walked over to the curate's house, and told
him that he had spoken in his behalf to Dr. Tootle, but the curacy was
pre-engaged. The good man having made a thousand acknowledgments for the
trouble his honour had taken; 'I have not interest sufficient to make you
curate,' said the knight, 'but I can give you the living itself, and that
you shall have.' So saying, he retired, leaving Mr. Jenkins incapable of
uttering one syllable, so powerfully was he struck with this unexpected
turn of good fortune. The presentation was immediately made out, and in
a few days Mr. Jenkins was put in possession of his benefice, to the
inexpressible joy of the congregation.
"Hitherto everything went right, and every unprejudiced person commended
the knight's conduct; but in a little time his generosity seemed to
overleap the bounds of discretion, and even in some cases might be
thought tending to a breach of the king's peace. For example, he
compelled, vi et armis, a rich farmer's son to marry the daughter of a
cottager, whom the young fellow had debauched. Indeed, it seems there
was a promise of marriage in the case, though it could not be legally
ascertained. The wench took on dismally, and her parents had recourse to
Sir Launcelot, who, sending for the delinquent, expostulated with him
severely on the injury he had done the young woman, and exhorted him to
save her life and reputation by performing his promise, in which case he,
Sir Launcelot, would give her three hundred pounds to her portion.
Whether the farmer thought there was something interested in this
uncommon offer, or was a little elevated by the consciousness of his
father's wealth, he rejected the proposal with rustic disdain, and said,
if so be as how the wench would swear the child to him, he would settle
it with the parish; but declared, that no squire in the land should
oblige him to buckle with such a cracked pitcher. This resolution,
however, he could not maintain; for, in less than two hours the rector of
the parish had direction to publish the banns, and the ceremony was
performed in due course.
"Now, though we know not precisely the nature of the arguments that were
used with the farmer, we may conclude they were of the minatory species,
for the young fellow could not, for some time, look any person in the
face.
"The knight acted as the general redresser of grievances. If a woman
complained to him of being ill-treated by her husband, he first inquired
into the foundation of the complaint, and, if he found it just,
catechised the defendant. If the warning had no effect, and the man
proceeded to fresh acts of violence, then his judge took the execution of
the law in his own hand, and horsewhipped the party. Thus he involved
himself in several law-suits, that drained him of pretty large sums of
money. He seemed particularly incensed at the least appearance of
oppression; and supported divers poor tenants against the extortion of
their landlords. Nay, he has been known to travel two hundred miles as a
volunteer, to offer his assistance in the cause of a person, who he heard
was by chicanery and oppression wronged of a considerable estate. He
accordingly took her under his protection, relieved her distresses, and
was at a vast expense in bringing the suit to a determination; which
being unfavourable to his client, he resolved to bring an appeal into the
House of Lords, and certainly would have executed his purpose, if the
gentlewoman had not died in the interim."
At this period Ferret interrupted the narrator, by observing that the
said Greaves was a common nuisance, and ought to be prosecuted on the
statute of barratry.
"No, sir," resumed Mr. Clarke, "he cannot be convicted of barratry,
unless he is always at variance with some person or other, a mover of
suits and quarrels, who disturbs the peace under colour of law.
Therefore he is in the indictment styled, Communis malefactor,
calumniator, et seminator litium."
"Pr'ythee, truce with thy definitions," cried Ferret, "and make an end to
thy long-winded story. Thou hast no title to be so tedious, until thou
comest to have a coif in the Court of Common Pleas."
Tom smiled contemptuous, and had just opened his mouth to proceed, when
the company were disturbed by a hideous repetition of groans, that seemed
to issue from the chamber in which the body of the squire was deposited.
The landlady snatched the candle, and ran into the room, followed by the
doctor and the rest; and this accident naturally suspended the narration.
In like manner we shall conclude the chapter, that the reader may have
time to breathe and digest what he has already heard.
CHAPTER FIVE
IN WHICH THIS RECAPITULATION DRAWS TO A CLOSE.
When the landlady entered the room from whence the groaning proceeded,
she found the squire lying on his back, under the dominion of the
nightmare, which rode him so hard that he not only groaned and snorted,
but the sweat ran down his face in streams. The perturbation of his
brain, occasioned by this pressure, and the fright he had lately
undergone, gave rise to a very terrible dream, in which he fancied
himself apprehended for a robbery. The horror of the gallows was strong
upon him, when he was suddenly awaked by a violent shock from the doctor;
and the company broke in upon his view, still perverted by fear, and
bedimmed by slumber. His dream was now realised by a full persuasion
that he was surrounded by the constable and his gang. The first object
that presented itself to his disordered view was the figure of Ferret,
who might very well have passed for the finisher of the law; against him,
therefore, the first effort of his despair was directed. He started upon
the floor, and seizing a certain utensil, that shall be nameless,
launched it at the misanthrope with such violence, that had he not
cautiously slipt his head aside, it is supposed that actual fire would
have been produced from the collision of two such hard and solid
substances. All future mischief was prevented by the strength and
agility of Captain Crowe, who, springing upon the assailant, pinioned his
arms to his sides, crying, "O, d--n ye, if you are for running a-head,
I'll soon bring you to your bearings."
The squire, thus restrained, soon recollected himself, and gazing upon
every individual in the apartment, "Wounds!" said he, "I've had an ugly
dream. I thought, for all the world, they were carrying me to Newgate,
and that there was Jack Ketch coom to vetch me before my taim."
Ferret, who was the person he had thus distinguished, eyeing him with a
look of the most emphatic malevolence, told him it was very natural for a
knave to dream of Newgate; and that he hoped to see the day when his
dream would be found a true prophecy, and the commonwealth purged of all
such rogues and vagabonds. But it could not be expected that the vulgar
would be honest and conscientious, while the great were distinguished by
profligacy and corruption. The squire was disposed to make a practical
reply to this insinuation, when Mr. Ferret prudently withdrew himself
from the scene of altercation. The good woman of the house persuaded his
antagonist to take out his nap, assuring him that the eggs and bacon,
with a mug of excellent ale, should be forthcoming in due season. The
affair being thus fortunately adjusted, the guests returned to the
kitchen, and Mr. Clarke resumed his story to this effect:--
"You'll please to take notice, gemmen, that, besides the instances I have
alleged of Sir Launcelot's extravagant benevolence, I could recount a
great many others of the same nature, and particularly the laudable
vengeance he took of a country lawyer. I'm sorry that any such miscreant
should belong to the profession. He was clerk of the assize, gemmen, in
a certain town, not a great way distant; and having a blank pardon left
by the judges for some criminals whose cases were attended with
favourable circumstances, he would not insert the name of one who could
not procure a guinea for the fee; and the poor fellow, who had only stole
an hour-glass out of a shoemaker's window, was actually executed, after a
long respite, during which he had been permitted to go abroad, and earn
his subsistence by his daily labour.
"Sir Launcelot being informed of this barbarous act of avarice, and
having some ground that bordered on the lawyer's estate, not only
rendered him contemptible and infamous, by exposing him as often as they
met on the grand jury, but also, being vested with the property of the
great tithe, proved such a troublesome neighbour, sometimes by making
waste among his hay and corn, sometimes by instituting suits against him
for petty trespasses, that he was fairly obliged to quit his habitation,
and remove into another part of the kingdom.
"All these avocations could not divert Sir Launcelot from the execution
of a wild scheme, which has carried his extravagance to such a pitch that
I am afraid, if a statute--you understand me, gemmen--were sued, the jury
would--I don't choose to explain myself further on this circumstance. Be
that as it may, the servants at Greavesbury Hall were not a little
confounded, when their master took down from the family armoury a
complete suit of armour, which belonged to his great-grandfather, Sir
Marmaduke Greaves, a great warrior, who lost his life in the service of
his king. This armour being scoured, repaired, and altered, so as to fit
Sir Launcelot, a certain knight, whom I don't choose to name, because I
believe he cannot be proved compos mentis, came down, seemingly on a
visit, with two attendants; and, on the evening of the festival of St.
George, the armour being carried into the chapel. Sir Launcelot (Lord
have mercy upon us!) remained all night in that dismal place alone, and
without light, though it was confidently reported all over the country,
that the place was haunted by the spirit of his great-great-uncle, who,
being lunatic, had cut his throat from ear to ear, and was found dead on
the communion table."
It was observed, that while Mr. Clarke rehearsed this circumstance his
eyes began to stare and his teeth to chatter; while Dolly, whose looks
were fixed invariably on this narrator, growing pale, and hitching her
joint-stool nearer the chimney, exclaimed, in a frightened tone,
"Moother, moother, in the neame of God, look to 'un! how a quakes! as I'm
a precious saoul, a looks as if a saw something." Tom forced a smile,
and thus proceeded:--
"While Sir Launcelot tarried within the chapel, with the doors all
locked, the other knight stalked round and round it on the outside, with
his sword drawn, to the terror of divers persons who were present at the
ceremony. As soon as day broke he opened one of the doors, and going in
to Sir Launcelot, read a book for some time, which we did suppose to be
the constitutions of knight-errantry. Then we heard a loud slap, which
echoed through the whole chapel, and the stranger pronounce, with an
audible and solemn voice, 'In the name of God, St. Michael, and St.
George, I dub thee knight--be faithful, bold, and fortunate.' You cannot
imagine, gemmen, what an effect this strange ceremony had upon the people
who were assembled. They gazed at one another in silent horror, and when
Sir Launcelot came forth completely armed, took to their heels in a body,
and fled with the utmost precipitation. I myself was overturned in the
crowd; and this was the case with that very individual person who now
serves him as squire. He was so frightened that he could not rise, but
lay roaring in such a manner that the knight came up and gave him a
thwack with his lance across the shoulders, which roused him with a
vengeance. For my own part I freely own I was not unmoved at seeing such
a figure come stalking out of a church in the grey of the morning; for it
recalled to my remembrance the idea of the ghost in Hamlet, which I had
seen acted in Drury Lane, when I made my first trip to London, and I had
not yet got rid of the impression.
"Sir Launcelot, attended by the other knight, proceeded to the stable,
from whence, with his own hands, he drew forth one of his best horses, a
fine mettlesome sorrel, who had got blood in him, ornamented with rich
trappings. In a trice, the two knights, and the other two strangers, who
now appeared to be trumpeters, were mounted. Sir Launcelot's armour was
lacquered black; and on his shield was represented the moon in her first
quarter, with the motto, Impleat orbem. The trumpets having sounded a
charge, the stranger pronounced with a loud voice, 'God preserve this
gallant knight in all his honourable achievements; and may he long
continue to press the sides of his now adopted steed, which I denominate
Bronzomarte, hoping that he will rival in swiftness and spirit, Bayardo,
Brigliadoro, or any other steed of past or present chivalry!' After
another flourish of the trumpets, all four clapped spurs to their horses,
Sir Launcelot couching his lance, and galloped to and fro, as if they had
been mad, to the terror and astonishment of all the spectators.
"What should have induced our knight to choose this here man for his
squire, is not easy to determine; for, of all the servants about the
house, he was the least likely either to please his master, or engage in
such an undertaking. His name is Timothy Crabshaw, and he acted in the
capacity of whipper-in to Sir Everhard. He afterwards married the
daughter of a poor cottager, by whom he has several children, and was
employed about the house as a ploughman and carter. To be sure, the
fellow has a dry sort of humour about him; but he was universally hated
among the servants, for his abusive tongue and perverse disposition,
which often brought him into trouble; for, though the fellow is as strong
as an elephant, he has no more courage naturally than a chicken; I say
naturally, because, since his being a member of knight-errantry, he has
done some things that appear altogether incredible and preternatural.
"Timothy kept such a bawling, after he had received the blow from Sir
Launcelot, that everybody on the field thought that some of his bones
were broken; and his wife, with five bantlings, came snivelling to the
knight, who ordered her to send the husband directly to his house. Tim
accordingly went thither, groaning piteously all the way, creeping along,
with his body bent like a Greenland canoe. As soon as he entered the
court, the outward door was shut; and Sir Launcelot coming downstairs
with a horsewhip in his hand, asked what was the matter with him that he
complained so dismally? To this question he replied, that it was as
common as duck-weed in his country for a man to complain when his bones
were broke. 'What should have broke your bones?' said the knight. 'I
cannot guess,' answered the other, 'unless it was that delicate switch
that your honour in your mad pranks handled so dexterously upon my
carcass.' Sir Launcelot then told him, there was nothing so good for a
bruise, as a sweat; and he had the remedy in his hand. Timothy, eyeing
the horsewhip askance, observed that there was another still more speedy,
to wit, a moderate pill of lead, with a sufficient dose of gunpowder.
'No, rascal,' cried the knight; 'that must be reserved for your betters.'
So saying, he employed the instrument so effectually, that Crabshaw soon
forgot his fractured ribs, and capered about with great agility.
"When he had been disciplined in this manner to some purpose, the knight
told him he might retire, but ordered him to return next morning, when he
should have a repetition of the medicine, provided he did not find
himself capable of walking in an erect posture.
"The gate was no sooner thrown open, than Timothy ran home with all the
speed of a greyhound, and corrected his wife, by whose advice he had
pretended to be so grievously damaged in his person.
"Nobody dreamed that he would next day present himself at Greavesbury
Hall; nevertheless, he was there very early in the morning, and even
closeted a whole hour altogether with Sir Launcelot. He came out, making
wry faces, and several times slapped himself on the forehead, crying,
'Bodikins! thof he be crazy, I an't, that I an't?' When he was asked
what was the matter, he said, he believed the devil had got in him, and
he should never be his own man again.
"That same day the knight carried him to Ashenton, where he bespoke those
accoutrements which he now wears; and while these were making, it was
thought the poor fellow would have run distracted. He did nothing but
growl, and curse and swear to himself, run backwards and forwards between
his own hut and Greavesbury Hall, and quarrel with the horses in the
stable. At length, his wife and family were removed into a snug
farmhouse, that happened to be empty, and care taken that they should be
comfortably maintained.
"These precautions being taken, the knight, one morning, at daybreak,
mounted Bronzomarte, and Crabshaw, as his squire, ascended the back of a
clumsy cart-horse, called Gilbert. This, again, was looked upon as an
instance of insanity in the said Crabshaw; for, of all the horses in the
stable, Gilbert was the most stubborn and vicious, and had often like to
have done mischief to Timothy while he drove the cart and plough. When
he was out of humour, he would kick and plunge as if the devil was in
him. He once thrust Crabshaw into the middle of a quick-set hedge, where
he was terribly torn; another time he canted him over his head into a
quagmire, where he stuck with his heels up, and must have perished, if
people had not been passing that way; a third time he seized him in the
stable with his teeth by the rim of the belly, and swung him off the
ground, to the great danger of his life; and I'll be hanged, if it was
not owing to Gilbert, that Crabshaw was now thrown into the river.
"Thus mounted and accoutred, the knight and his squire set out on their
first excursion. They turned off from the common highway, and travelled
all that day without meeting anything worthy recounting; but, in the
morning of the second day, they were favoured with an adventure. The
hunt was upon a common through which they travelled, and the hounds were
in full cry after a fox, when Crabshaw, prompted by his own mischievous
disposition, and neglecting the order of his master, who called aloud to
him to desist, rode up to the hounds, and crossed them at full gallop.
The huntsman, who was not far off, running towards the squire, bestowed
upon his head such a memento with his pole, as made the landscape dance
before his eyes; and, in a twinkling he was surrounded by all the
fox-hunters, who plied their whips about his ears with infinite agility.
Sir Launcelot, advancing at an easy pace, instead of assisting the
disastrous squire, exhorted his adversaries to punish him severely for
his insolence, and they were not slow in obeying this injunction.
Crabshaw, finding himself in this disagreeable situation, and that there
was no succour to be expected from his master, on whose prowess he had
depended, grew desperate, and, clubbing his whip, laid about him with
great fury, wheeling about Gilbert, who was not idle; for he, having
received some of the favours intended for his rider, both bit with his
teeth and kicked with his heels; and, at last, made his way through the
ring that encircled him, though not before he had broke the huntsman's
leg, lamed one of the best horses on the field, and killed half a score
of the hounds.