History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
earnest in my life. Tom French of our regiment had both her and her
aunt at Bath.” “Then I must tell you in earnest,” cries Jones, “that
you are one of the most impudent rascals upon earth.”
He had no sooner spoken these words, than the ensign, together with a
volley of curses, discharged a bottle full at the head of Jones, which
hitting him a little above the right temple, brought him instantly to
the ground.
The conqueror perceiving the enemy to lie motionless before him, and
blood beginning to flow pretty plentifully from his wound, began now
to think of quitting the field of battle, where no more honour was to
be gotten; but the lieutenant interposed, by stepping before the door,
and thus cut off his retreat.
Northerton was very importunate with the lieutenant for his liberty;
urging the ill consequences of his stay, asking him, what he could
have done less? “Zounds!” says he, “I was but in jest with the fellow.
I never heard any harm of Miss Western in my life.” “Have not you?”
said the lieutenant; “then you richly deserve to be hanged, as well
for making such jests, as for using such a weapon: you are my
prisoner, sir; nor shall you stir from hence till a proper guard comes
to secure you.”
Such an ascendant had our lieutenant over this ensign, that all that
fervency of courage which had levelled our poor heroe with the floor,
would scarce have animated the said ensign to have drawn his sword
against the lieutenant, had he then had one dangling at his side: but
all the swords being hung up in the room, were, at the very beginning
of the fray, secured by the French officer. So that Mr Northerton was
obliged to attend the final issue of this affair.
The French gentleman and Mr Adderly, at the desire of their commanding
officer, had raised up the body of Jones, but as they could perceive
but little (if any) sign of life in him, they again let him fall,
Adderly damning him for having blooded his wastecoat; and the
Frenchman declaring, “Begar, me no tush the Engliseman de mort: me
have heard de Englise ley, law, what you call, hang up de man dat tush
him last.”
When the good lieutenant applied himself to the door, he applied
himself likewise to the bell; and the drawer immediately attending, he
dispatched him for a file of musqueteers and a surgeon. These
commands, together with the drawer's report of what he had himself
seen, not only produced the soldiers, but presently drew up the
landlord of the house, his wife, and servants, and, indeed, every one
else who happened at that time to be in the inn.
To describe every particular, and to relate the whole conversation of
the ensuing scene, is not within my power, unless I had forty pens,
and could, at once, write with them all together, as the company now
spoke. The reader must, therefore, content himself with the most
remarkable incidents, and perhaps he may very well excuse the rest.
The first thing done was securing the body of Northerton, who being
delivered into the custody of six men with a corporal at their head,
was by them conducted from a place which he was very willing to leave,
but it was unluckily to a place whither he was very unwilling to go.
To say the truth, so whimsical are the desires of ambition, the very
moment this youth had attained the above-mentioned honour, he would
have been well contented to have retired to some corner of the world,
where the fame of it should never have reached his ears.
It surprizes us, and so perhaps, it may the reader, that the
lieutenant, a worthy and good man, should have applied his chief care,
rather to secure the offender, than to preserve the life of the
wounded person. We mention this observation, not with any view of
pretending to account for so odd a behaviour, but lest some critic
should hereafter plume himself on discovering it. We would have these
gentlemen know we can see what is odd in characters as well as
themselves, but it is our business to relate facts as they are; which,
when we have done, it is the part of the learned and sagacious reader
to consult that original book of nature, whence every passage in our
work is transcribed, though we quote not always the particular page
for its authority.
The company which now arrived were of a different disposition. They
suspended their curiosity concerning the person of the ensign, till
they should see him hereafter in a more engaging attitude. At present,
their whole concern and attention were employed about the bloody
object on the floor; which being placed upright in a chair, soon began
to discover some symptoms of life and motion. These were no sooner
perceived by the company (for Jones was at first generally concluded
to be dead) than they all fell at once to prescribing for him (for as
none of the physical order was present, every one there took that
office upon him).
Bleeding was the unanimous voice of the whole room; but unluckily
there was no operator at hand; every one then cried, “Call the
barber;” but none stirred a step. Several cordials was likewise
prescribed in the same ineffective manner; till the landlord ordered
up a tankard of strong beer, with a toast, which he said was the best
cordial in England.
The person principally assistant on this occasion, indeed the only one
who did any service, or seemed likely to do any, was the landlady: she
cut off some of her hair, and applied it to the wound to stop the
blood; she fell to chafing the youth's temples with her hand; and
having exprest great contempt for her husband's prescription of beer,
she despatched one of her maids to her own closet for a bottle of
brandy, of which, as soon as it was brought, she prevailed on Jones,
who was just returned to his senses, to drink a very large and
plentiful draught.
Soon afterwards arrived the surgeon, who having viewed the wound,
having shaken his head, and blamed everything which was done, ordered
his patient instantly to bed; in which place we think proper to leave
him some time to his repose, and shall here, therefore, put an end to
this chapter.
Chapter xiii.
Containing the great address of the landlady, the great learning of a
surgeon, and the solid skill in casuistry of the worthy lieutenant.
When the wounded man was carried to his bed, and the house began again
to clear up from the hurry which this accident had occasioned, the
landlady thus addressed the commanding officer: “I am afraid, sir,”
said she, “this young man did not behave himself as well as he should
do to your honours; and if he had been killed, I suppose he had but
his desarts: to be sure, when gentlemen admit inferior parsons into
their company, they oft to keep their distance; but, as my first
husband used to say, few of 'em know how to do it. For my own part, I
am sure I should not have suffered any fellows to _include_ themselves
into gentlemen's company; but I thoft he had been an officer himself,
till the serjeant told me he was but a recruit.”
“Landlady,” answered the lieutenant, “you mistake the whole matter.
The young man behaved himself extremely well, and is, I believe, a
much better gentleman than the ensign who abused him. If the young
fellow dies, the man who struck him will have most reason to be sorry
for it: for the regiment will get rid of a very troublesome fellow,
who is a scandal to the army; and if he escapes from the hands of
justice, blame me, madam, that's all.”
“Ay! ay! good lack-a-day!” said the landlady; “who could have thoft
it? Ay, ay, ay, I am satisfied your honour will see justice done; and
to be sure it oft to be to every one. Gentlemen oft not to kill poor
folks without answering for it. A poor man hath a soul to be saved, as
well as his betters.”
“Indeed, madam,” said the lieutenant, “you do the volunteer wrong: I
dare swear he is more of a gentleman than the officer.”
“Ay!” cries the landlady; “why, look you there, now: well, my first
husband was a wise man; he used to say, you can't always know the
inside by the outside. Nay, that might have been well enough too; for
I never _saw'd_ him till he was all over blood. Who would have thoft
it? mayhap, some young gentleman crossed in love. Good lack-a-day, if
he should die, what a concern it will be to his parents! why, sure the
devil must possess the wicked wretch to do such an act. To be sure, he
is a scandal to the army, as your honour says; for most of the
gentlemen of the army that ever I saw, are quite different sort of
people, and look as if they would scorn to spill any Christian blood
as much as any men: I mean, that is, in a civil way, as my first
husband used to say. To be sure, when they come into the wars, there
must be bloodshed: but that they are not to be blamed for. The more of
our enemies they kill there, the better: and I wish, with all my
heart, they could kill every mother's son of them.”
“O fie, madam!” said the lieutenant, smiling; “_all_ is rather too
bloody-minded a wish.”
“Not at all, sir,” answered she; “I am not at all bloody-minded, only
to our enemies; and there is no harm in that. To be sure it is natural
for us to wish our enemies dead, that the wars may be at an end, and
our taxes be lowered; for it is a dreadful thing to pay as we do. Why
now, there is above forty shillings for window-lights, and yet we have
stopt up all we could; we have almost blinded the house, I am sure.
Says I to the exciseman, says I, I think you oft to favour us; I am
sure we are very good friends to the government: and so we are for
sartain, for we pay a mint of money to 'um. And yet I often think to
myself the government doth not imagine itself more obliged to us, than
to those that don't pay 'um a farthing. Ay, ay, it is the way of the
world.”
She was proceeding in this manner when the surgeon entered the room.
The lieutenant immediately asked how his patient did. But he resolved
him only by saying, “Better, I believe, than he would have been by
this time, if I had not been called; and even as it is, perhaps it
would have been lucky if I could have been called sooner.”--“I hope,
sir,” said the lieutenant, “the skull is not fractured.”--“Hum,” cries
the surgeon: “fractures are not always the most dangerous symptoms.
Contusions and lacerations are often attended with worse phaenomena,
and with more fatal consequences, than fractures. People who know
nothing of the matter conclude, if the skull is not fractured, all is
well; whereas, I had rather see a man's skull broke all to pieces,
than some contusions I have met with.”--“I hope,” says the lieutenant,
“there are no such symptoms here.”--“Symptoms,” answered the surgeon,
“are not always regular nor constant. I have known very unfavourable
symptoms in the morning change to favourable ones at noon, and return
to unfavourable again at night. Of wounds, indeed, it is rightly and
truly said, _Nemo repente fuit turpissimus_. I was once, I remember,
called to a patient who had received a violent contusion in his tibia,
by which the exterior cutis was lacerated, so that there was a profuse
sanguinary discharge; and the interior membranes were so divellicated,
that the os or bone very plainly appeared through the aperture of the
vulnus or wound. Some febrile symptoms intervening at the same time
(for the pulse was exuberant and indicated much phlebotomy), I
apprehended an immediate mortification. To prevent which, I presently
made a large orifice in the vein of the left arm, whence I drew twenty
ounces of blood; which I expected to have found extremely sizy and
glutinous, or indeed coagulated, as it is in pleuretic complaints;
but, to my surprize, it appeared rosy and florid, and its consistency
differed little from the blood of those in perfect health. I then
applied a fomentation to the part, which highly answered the