History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
stories of his campaigns, though in reality he had never made any; for
he was but lately come into the service, and had, by his own
dexterity, so well ingratiated himself with his officers, that he had
promoted himself to a halberd; chiefly indeed by his merit in
recruiting, in which he was most excellently well skilled.
Much mirth and festivity passed among the soldiers during their march.
In which the many occurrences that had passed at their last quarters
were remembered, and every one, with great freedom, made what jokes he
pleased on his officers, some of which were of the coarser kind, and
very near bordering on scandal. This brought to our heroe's mind the
custom which he had read of among the Greeks and Romans, of indulging,
on certain festivals and solemn occasions, the liberty to slaves, of
using an uncontrouled freedom of speech towards their masters.
Our little army, which consisted of two companies of foot, were now
arrived at the place where they were to halt that evening. The
serjeant then acquainted his lieutenant, who was the commanding
officer, that they had picked up two fellows in that day's march, one
of which, he said, was as fine a man as ever he saw (meaning the
tippler), for that he was near six feet, well proportioned, and
strongly limbed; and the other (meaning Jones) would do well enough
for the rear rank.
The new soldiers were now produced before the officer, who having
examined the six-feet man, he being first produced, came next to
survey Jones: at the first sight of whom, the lieutenant could not
help showing some surprize; for besides that he was very well dressed,
and was naturally genteel, he had a remarkable air of dignity in his
look, which is rarely seen among the vulgar, and is indeed not
inseparably annexed to the features of their superiors.
“Sir,” said the lieutenant, “my serjeant informed me that you are
desirous of enlisting in the company I have at present under my
command; if so, sir, we shall very gladly receive a gentleman who
promises to do much honour to the company by bearing arms in it.”
Jones answered: “That he had not mentioned anything of enlisting
himself; that he was most zealously attached to the glorious cause for
which they were going to fight, and was very desirous of serving as a
volunteer;” concluding with some compliments to the lieutenant, and
expressing the great satisfaction he should have in being under his
command.
The lieutenant returned his civility, commended his resolution, shook
him by the hand, and invited him to dine with himself and the rest of
the officers.
Chapter xii.
The adventure of a company of officers.
The lieutenant, whom we mentioned in the preceding chapter, and who
commanded this party, was now near sixty years of age. He had entered
very young into the army, and had served in the capacity of an ensign
at the battle of Tannieres; here he had received two wounds, and had
so well distinguished himself, that he was by the Duke of Marlborough
advanced to be a lieutenant, immediately after that battle.
In this commission he had continued ever since, viz., near forty
years; during which time he had seen vast numbers preferred over his
head, and had now the mortification to be commanded by boys, whose
fathers were at nurse when he first entered into the service.
Nor was this ill success in his profession solely owing to his having
no friends among the men in power. He had the misfortune to incur the
displeasure of his colonel, who for many years continued in the
command of this regiment. Nor did he owe the implacable ill-will which
this man bore him to any neglect or deficiency as an officer, nor
indeed to any fault in himself; but solely to the indiscretion of his
wife, who was a very beautiful woman, and who, though she was
remarkably fond of her husband, would not purchase his preferment at
the expense of certain favours which the colonel required of her.
The poor lieutenant was more peculiarly unhappy in this, that while he
felt the effects of the enmity of his colonel, he neither knew, nor
suspected, that he really bore him any; for he could not suspect an
ill-will for which he was not conscious of giving any cause; and his
wife, fearing what her husband's nice regard to his honour might have
occasioned, contented herself with preserving her virtue without
enjoying the triumphs of her conquest.
This unfortunate officer (for so I think he may be called) had many
good qualities besides his merit in his profession; for he was a
religious, honest, good-natured man; and had behaved so well in his
command, that he was highly esteemed and beloved not only by the
soldiers of his own company, but by the whole regiment.
The other officers who marched with him were a French lieutenant, who
had been long enough out of France to forget his own language, but not
long enough in England to learn ours, so that he really spoke no
language at all, and could barely make himself understood on the most
ordinary occasions. There were likewise two ensigns, both very young
fellows; one of whom had been bred under an attorney, and the other
was son to the wife of a nobleman's butler.
As soon as dinner was ended, Jones informed the company of the
merriment which had passed among the soldiers upon their march; “and
yet,” says he, “notwithstanding all their vociferation, I dare swear
they will behave more like Grecians than Trojans when they come to the
enemy.”--“Grecians and Trojans!” says one of the ensigns, “who the
devil are they? I have heard of all the troops in Europe, but never of
any such as these.”
“Don't pretend to more ignorance than you have, Mr Northerton,” said
the worthy lieutenant. “I suppose you have heard of the Greeks and
Trojans, though perhaps you never read Pope's Homer; who, I remember,
now the gentleman mentions it, compares the march of the Trojans to
the cackling of geese, and greatly commends the silence of the
Grecians. And upon my honour there is great justice in the cadet's
observation.”
“Begar, me remember dem ver well,” said the French lieutenant: “me ave
read them at school in dans Madam Daciere, des Greek, des Trojan, dey
fight for von woman--ouy, ouy, me ave read all dat.”
“D--n Homo with all my heart,” says Northerton; “I have the marks of
him on my a-- yet. There's Thomas, of our regiment, always carries a
Homo in his pocket; d--n me, if ever I come at it, if I don't burn it.
And there's Corderius, another d--n'd son of a whore, that hath got me
many a flogging.”
“Then you have been at school, Mr Northerton?” said the lieutenant.
“Ay, d--n me, have I,” answered he; “the devil take my father for
sending me thither! The old put wanted to make a parson of me, but
d--n me, thinks I to myself, I'll nick you there, old cull; the devil
a smack of your nonsense shall you ever get into me. There's Jemmy
Oliver, of our regiment, he narrowly escaped being a pimp too, and
that would have been a thousand pities; for d--n me if he is not one
of the prettiest fellows in the whole world; but he went farther than
I with the old cull, for Jimmey can neither write nor read.”
“You give your friend a very good character,” said the lieutenant,
“and a very deserved one, I dare say. But prithee, Northerton, leave
off that foolish as well as wicked custom of swearing; for you are
deceived, I promise you, if you think there is wit or politeness in
it. I wish, too, you would take my advice, and desist from abusing the
clergy. Scandalous names, and reflections cast on any body of men,
must be always unjustifiable; but especially so, when thrown on so
sacred a function; for to abuse the body is to abuse the function
itself; and I leave to you to judge how inconsistent such behaviour is
in men who are going to fight in defence of the Protestant religion.”
Mr Adderly, which was the name of the other ensign, had sat hitherto
kicking his heels and humming a tune, without seeming to listen to the
discourse; he now answered, “_O, Monsieur, on ne parle pas de la
religion dans la guerre_.”--“Well said, Jack,” cries Northerton: “if
_la religion_ was the only matter, the parsons should fight their own
battles for me.”
“I don't know, gentlemen,” said Jones, “what may be your opinion; but
I think no man can engage in a nobler cause than that of his religion;
and I have observed, in the little I have read of history, that no
soldiers have fought so bravely as those who have been inspired with a
religious zeal: for my own part, though I love my king and country, I
hope, as well as any man in it, yet the Protestant interest is no
small motive to my becoming a volunteer in the cause.”
Northerton now winked on Adderly, and whispered to him slily, “Smoke
the prig, Adderly, smoke him.” Then turning to Jones, said to him, “I
am very glad, sir, you have chosen our regiment to be a volunteer in;
for if our parson should at any time take a cup too much, I find you
can supply his place. I presume, sir, you have been at the university;
may I crave the favour to know what college?”
“Sir,” answered Jones, “so far from having been at the university, I
have even had the advantage of yourself, for I was never at school.”
“I presumed,” cries the ensign, “only upon the information of your
great learning.”--“Oh! sir,” answered Jones, “it is as possible for a
man to know something without having been at school, as it is to have
been at school and to know nothing.”
“Well said, young volunteer,” cries the lieutenant. “Upon my word,
Northerton, you had better let him alone; for he will be too hard for
you.”
Northerton did not very well relish the sarcasm of Jones; but he
thought the provocation was scarce sufficient to justify a blow, or a
rascal, or scoundrel, which were the only repartees that suggested
themselves. He was, therefore, silent at present; but resolved to take
the first opportunity of returning the jest by abuse.
It now came to the turn of Mr Jones to give a toast, as it is called;
who could not refrain from mentioning his dear Sophia. This he did the
more readily, as he imagined it utterly impossible that any one
present should guess the person he meant.
But the lieutenant, who was the toast-master, was not contented with
Sophia only. He said, he must have her sir-name; upon which Jones
hesitated a little, and presently after named Miss Sophia Western.
Ensign Northerton declared he would not drink her health in the same
round with his own toast, unless somebody would vouch for her. “I knew
one Sophy Western,” says he, “that was lain with by half the young
fellows at Bath; and perhaps this is the same woman.” Jones very
solemnly assured him of the contrary; asserting that the young lady he
named was one of great fashion and fortune. “Ay, ay,” says the ensign,
“and so she is: d--n me, it is the same woman; and I'll hold half a
dozen of Burgundy, Tom French of our regiment brings her into company
with us at any tavern in Bridges-street.” He then proceeded to
describe her person exactly (for he had seen her with her aunt), and
concluded with saying, “that her father had a great estate in
Somersetshire.”
The tenderness of lovers can ill brook the least jesting with the
names of their mistresses. However, Jones, though he had enough of the
lover and of the heroe too in his disposition, did not resent these
slanders as hastily as, perhaps, he ought to have done. To say the
truth, having seen but little of this kind of wit, he did not readily
understand it, and for a long time imagined Mr Northerton had really
mistaken his charmer for some other. But now, turning to the ensign
with a stern aspect, he said, “Pray, sir, chuse some other subject for
your wit; for I promise you I will bear no jesting with this lady's
character.” “Jesting!” cries the other, “d--n me if ever I was more in